


What Happens After The End?

by takethethirdoption



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-03-03 04:56:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 25,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2838812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takethethirdoption/pseuds/takethethirdoption
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So after the whole fallout with SHIELD/HYDRA, you and your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky aka The Winter Soldier aka The Other Man Out Of Time, had a lot of reacquainting to do. You had to learn how to deal with someone like Bucky while Bucky not only had to relearn how to be a boyfriend, but also how to deal with regaining his memories.<br/>But he had you. And that was all he was in need of right now.</p><p>Post-You And Mr. Barnes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That Poor Coffee Table

**Author's Note:**

> These chapters might come a bit more slowly because, unlike You And Mr. Barnes, I am writing these things pretty much as I'm posting them. That means a bit more patience is required, but I promise I'll try to make it worth your while.  
> Note 1: Bucky's pet name for Reader is 'honey'. Not sure why, just thought the sweetness stuck.  
> Note 2: Hell yeah Ms. Cho

You and Mr. Barnes had been living together for exactly eight days when the first incident happened.

Bucky could take care of himself, but you felt obligated to watch over him. He was still prone to unstable behavior, which you realized could cause your nice coffee table to have an equally nice metal fist through it. 

You had gotten that at a thrift shop, so you weren’t too mad (though of course you were upset a little bit – that was a loyal table). 

To the probable shock of your friends if they knew he broke the table (considering they didn’t know Bucky was the Winter Soldier, just some hot guy who liked to wear jackets), you weren’t worried at all when it came to your physical health. Bucky wouldn’t hurt you. That much you were sure of. You weren’t sure how much your furniture could withstand the bad memory recollections from your boyfriend.

“I don’t want you hitting anything anymore!” you said, staring at the splinters of wood all over the floor and couch and rug. You had been ordering your closet up and clearing out space on the floor when you heard a bellow and a loud crack hit the air. “How am I going to clean this up…?”  
“I didn’t mean to,” Bucky said, staring at the floor as well, but just to keep eye contact away from you. “I remembered getting my arm on and everything started to hurt like hell.”  
“Ghost pains? Those exist, sure, but what did my poor table do?”  
“It was in the way.”  
“I hope I’m not in the way ever.”  
He tensed. “Never. Never, I promise, never.”

Okay, that might have been a bit unfair. It almost sounded like a threat the way you said it, sharp tone and glance over at Bucky. Sighing, you scratched your head.

“Maybe it’ll all fit in a trash bag…” You dragged out a vacuum for the splinters and got to work putting away the larger pieces of the table into trash bags. Several, it turned out.  
“Can I help?”  
You looked to see Bucky walking around you uneasily. The look on his face was almost pitiful. He really had grown a lot. You were sure guilt wasn’t something he had felt in a long time.  
“Yeah, start vacuuming the floor and the furniture. I’m taking these things down to the curb.” You pointed at three trash bags. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

You muttered to yourself as you threw the trash bags into the hallway, slowly making your way to the elevator. It was small. Maybe you and three bags full of broken table could fit in one.  
This was going to be a trial with your boyfriend. You really did love him and you didn’t take for granted that the road would be easy, but you didn’t think that smashed tables would be a concern. You didn’t doubt Bucky was being truthful when he said that he would never hurt you. Being without a job, you couldn’t afford replacing a lot. Well, you could, but being frugal was what got you so much money in the bank in the first place. Well, that and a small inheritance and illegal government work. The latter was dirty money, but money that didn’t need to be spent on replacing what Bucky smashed.

As you tossed your trash onto the curb, you mused on ways to get Bucky to stay calm during intense memory recollections. There was no avoiding them. Maybe he could grip something… something his arm couldn’t break. But what? 

These thoughts kept you busy and half-deaf, so unawares that Ms. Cho caught you just as you brought your key out of your pocket.  
“What was that crash? Don’t tell me you were fucking on a table!”

The eighty-one-year-old Korean woman spoke like a sailor with about as much care for decency as one as well. You kind of admired that about her, but at the same time it continuously took you aback. The pause of conversation on your end didn’t let Ms. Cho stop. Rather, it let her continue uninhibited.

“I saw the trash bags, you know.”  
“It was an accident.”  
“If you have splinters in your ass, you’d better get them out! If you don't and he spanks it, you’ll get gangrene or sepsis and the doctors will lob it off, one cheek at a time!” Ms. Cho cackled at the look on your face. “I don’t have to tell a doctor that, do I?”  
You took a deep breath and kept a straight face. “There are no splinters embedded in my butt cheeks, Ms. Cho.”  
“You don’t deny that fucking got you a broken table though,” she pointed out, oblivious to the fact that it was Bucky’s metal arm sent screaming through your very nice ex-table. But you supposed that a good shag might have done the same. You wouldn’t doubt it with the way Bucky pounded into you at times.  
“Yeah… sure… why not…”  
“Ice your back and go back to sex on the bed. Get a mattress to absorb the blows, yeah? Your boyfriend, he’s nice-looking, isn’t he? You wouldn’t want him to be overzealous and hurt himself, then you’d have to find someone else to satisfy you. That's how I lost my first husband.”  
“Thanks, Ms. Cho. I’ll tell him that.”  
At that, your neighbor smiled and went back into her apartment, but not without inviting you and Bucky over for tea and shouting a reminder to, “wear a condom!”

You walked back into the apartment with a smile to see Bucky finishing up.  
“I think I got everything, honey.” 

You nodded and walked over to the couch. If only you had one of those nice leather ones. But the soft, cushy ones? There could be little wood shavings hidden in the material. The only way to make sure was to run your hand across the surface. 

A sharp “ow!” confirmed your suspicions and soon Bucky was holding a pair of tweezers and examining your palm.

“I can do it, I’m a doctor,” you said. You were such a baby around pain and Bucky was acting so concerned that you let him pull the splinters out.  
“You’ve got three in here. It’s my fault that you have those.” Before getting tweezers to yank them, Bucky did a quadruple check of your couch and confirmed it was splinter-free. “I’ll get them out.”  
“Just hurry…”  
One by one the splinters came out, Bucky’s eyes flickering upwards at your micro flinches. “Done. I’ve got the peroxide here…” He carefully wet a cotton ball and dabbed at the tiny wounds. “You don’t need a bandage or anything, it looks like.”  
You smiled softly at him and leaned forward to kiss his head. “Look at you. Taking care of me.”  
“It’s…” He shook his head. “I’m just doing what’s right…”  
“I appreciate it. We can go get a new table later on, okay?”  
“Okay.”  
“Sweetie?”  
He looked up, biting his lower lip. “Yeah, honey?”  
“I’m not mad at you. It’s just a cheap wood table. I’m not going to kick you out or dump you over it, okay? Don’t worry?”

Your heart skipped a beat as Bucky completely unclenched and hugged your middle, pulling you under him. His relief was confirmed when he put his lips to yours.

Again, Bucky was an insanely good kisser. Even if you were a better one, you could appreciate the talent he had. 

Often he liked to confirm that you still handed out affection as often as he was ready to give it. Seventy years and you were the only women he had sex with or anything close to it. He wanted to keep that streak unbroken and make love as frequently as humanly possible. Well, humanly for you. Superhumanly for him, which pleased you just fine. 

Though sometimes you wondered if he wasn’t quite good at just being intimate in non-sexual ways. More often than not there was no lead-up to sex. With other boyfriends or what not, there was flirting or a click of recognition in each of your eyes. Maybe even a special occasion like a birthday or anniversary or Saturday afternoon. Bucky seemed to go right into it when the mood hit him. With the life he led beforehand, you had gotten used to the way he lived now. There was no time wasted with anything. He answered you with as few words as possible and was very diligent in his tasks. He took his time during sex, yes, but he didn’t waste time getting to foreplay.

Bucky sat himself up and took off his shirt. You weren’t a terribly religious person, but you found yourself feeling particularly blessed to be able to touch his body as often as it pleased you. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “You’re just so… good.”  
“Good, am I?” you asked, staring at his chest. The sudden urge to lick it popped into your head, but you forced it down. Call it narcissistic, but you liked it when Bucky complimented you or flattered you. It made you feel gooshy inside.  
“Genuinely good,” he said with a firm nod. “I feel lucky to be with you.”  
He never lied to you and you valued that. So to know that he was speaking from his heart made you content.  
“Thanks, Buck.”  
“Can I… show you how grateful I am?” he asked, his voice thick and heady.  
“Oh God, please, do that.”

No one ever said you didn’t like that Bucky liked to fuck you a lot. Let that never be said.

Though you did want to find out if a flirty Bucky, a cozy Bucky, a… James existed and what that was like.

If it wasn’t for HYDRA, that Bucky might not be so hard to find. But if it wasn’t for HYDRA, you wouldn’t know him at all. You often struggled with the morality of having him as a boyfriend, a man out of time. One that might even be actively hunted by HYDRA or worse, knowing you’d be a target or used as leverage against him. More often than not, these thoughts kept you up when the rest of D.C. was having no trouble sleeping.


	2. Midnight Cravings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after the whole fallout with SHIELD/HYDRA, you and your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky aka The Winter Soldier aka The Other Man Out Of Time, had a lot of reacquainting to do. You had to learn how to deal with someone like Bucky while Bucky not only had to relearn how to be a boyfriend, but also with regaining his memories.  
> But he had you. And that was all he was in need of right now.
> 
> Post-You And Mr. Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead.

You sat up from bed, another sleepless night. You couldn't help but think that HYDRA was going to bust down your apartment door at any second, murdering you in your bathtub and making it look like a tragic accident. Worse than that, you imagined them taking Bucky away again. He had issues with sleep and letting his guard down more than you did, but there he was next to you, sound asleep. 

A heavy sigh left your lips and you rubbed your eyes. You couldn't take much more of this. Sure, you weren't in the computer banks of HYDRA after you were presumed dead by nearly all of their members, save Brock, who was still in the hospital after surviving a massive series of third degree burns. You were so sad after learning of his true colors, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to damn him after saving your life. Though even with Brock's saving grace, you still felt as though you weren't safe. Ex-members of HYDRA were all around, some feigning ignorance while others plea-bargained. 

Bucky made you safe, secure and calm. Except for nights like this. Nights of jumping at every sound were impossible to get through. Just a few hours of sleep were needed to make it through a day, but many more repeat nights of more-or-less naps were going to lead to a mental or physical breakdown, or both. Though you promised that you would never put your life ahead of Bucky’s, that didn’t mean you couldn’t be scared. 

“Hey...” 

You looked over to see Bucky gazing at you, lying on his side. The blankets were pulled up far enough to cover the essentials, but leave everything else bare. 

“Hey...”  
“You're awake.” He sat up, shedding the blanket. His legs were his best feature, but his face gave them something to rival for.  
“Yeah. Can't sleep tonight.”  
“It's okay. HYDRA won't get you,” he whispered, moving closer to you. “I'll protect you. Like you protected me.”  
You put your head to his. “But what if they hurt you? I won't be able to do anything. They've already done so much to you, Buck.”

Bucky nodded before dropping his head to your shoulder. A kiss. Another kiss. Then he added his tongue before kissing it again. You inhaled quickly as he grabbed your hip and suckled on your neck. That metal arm of his, super strong, had shifted you onto his lap. You could feel his half-hard cock pressing into your back as he worked on your neck, kisses and nibbles up and down both sides. You moaned quietly and started to grind on him, picking up speed as he grabbed a breast.  
Your arm went behind his head, fingers finding a fistful of dark locks to raise his head up and bring his lips to yours. He was a fantastic kisser. But if you had asked him, he would have said you were a far better kisser than he was. 

You cried out suddenly as Bucky tugged at your nipple. That made him grin.  
“You're going to make the neighbors complain again if you can't be quiet,” he whispered, mercilessly tugging it again while simultaneously licking the shell of your ear. 

The funny thing about sex between you and Bucky was that he found suppressed squeals sexier than piercing shrieks. So if you were both awake in the dead of night, he would always bring you to the edge, even before entering you. He worked the neck and the breast and you were putty in his hands. Speaking of hands, both of his were on your breasts, kneading them to his liking. It was too much for you to keep quiet.

With that, you turned around and clasped your hands behind his neck. “Then stop making me do that...”  
“But you look so sexy when you're holding it back,” he replied huskily, cupping your ass with a firm squeeze. Bucky loved to touch it and took the opportunity whenever he could. Just recently he learned that you liked to be spanked. He had plans for that later. “You know what that does to me.”  
You smiled at that and leaned in to nibble on his ear. “Does it make you _hard?_ ” you whispered, sliding a hand down his chest and stomach to grasp his member. “Is that groaning I hear?” you asked when you started to stroke it.

Bucky let out a short curse at your actions. You knew his pressure points just as well as he knew yours. He fell forward with you in his arms, bracing himself above you. 

“Come on, come on, baby,” he muttered before kissing you hard. You responded with just as much passion, arching your back and pressing your body to his. You broke off the kiss when he entered you, gasping at the toe-curling size of Bucky Barnes. “Keep it quiet,” he added, smirking at you. 

You knew what he was after and you obliged him. In the crook of his neck was his favorite place when you had to keep it down. At a forceful thrust, you moaned low and peppered his neck with kisses. Bucky liked to play between fast and slow for you, but tonight he wanted to drive deep, to ride you long... and _rough_. He wanted to empty out your mind for a small window of time of everything except himself. Similarly, he wanted to know nothing except the feel of your skin and the tightness of your core. 

He couldn't take another memory trigger tonight, not again. When the pair of you were open to one another, and felt more than passion during sex, Bucky usually gained back a memory. You yourself guessed it had to do with human connection and psychology, that the will to want to strengthen a bond did something to Bucky's brain that powered back against the mind wipes. 

Sometimes the memory recollections were wonderful. Great times involving his childhood in New York and times spent with Steve Rogers. Others involved his time spent as the Winter Soldier, remembering the murders he had committed. Bucky noticed that when he clutched you in his arms and made love to you like it was the only thing keeping him on this earth, he could keep resurfacing memories at bay. He didn't understand it, but it was what little control he had and he wanted to sustain it. Though this was lessening as a phenomenon as time went on, he wanted to be assured that nothing was going to interrupt time with you.

So he went on with his hip-slamming method of intercourse. Not that he was doing it selfishly. He could tell when you wanted it a bit rough. When you were worried about HYDRA or your lack of a job or funds, Bucky brought in his own mode of distraction. It worked wonders. Sometimes he wished he could hold you without wanting to do more. He wasn’t good at the emotional aspects of dating anymore. He knew he could get it figured out eventually.

Bucky looked around at his back to see your legs wrapped around his torso. He rolled his pelvis and stretched you, chuckling at your toes clenching themselves.  
“Oh, you like it when I do that, do you?” he hummed in your ear, licking the lobe delicately. At that, he firmly held your hips and gyrated slowly. Your squeals and quiet, strained pleads for more rang beautifully in his ears. At a grab of his ass, he chuckled. “As you wish.”

Bucky was nearing his limit, but kept pushing until you came. He came not long after that. 

No memory, not tonight. Bucky let out a sigh and spread out on the bed while you went to get a couple glasses of water. When you came back in, naked in all your splendor, he smiled. A genuine one, not a smirk or a teasing grin that his past self was overly fond of. You didn't notice at first, but the smile continued as you set about doing menial tasks while you were up: setting the waters down, rubbing your back, stretching, straightening the items on the end table, and climbing on top of the covers. The smile was still firmly planted on his face when you looked at him.

And you couldn't help but smile too, brushing his hair back. “Now there's a nice smile. I love it when you do that.”  
“I save it for when it matters.” He kissed your hip. “You really are beautiful.”  
“Thanks, Buck.” 

You loved him, so much. It wasn't just a romantic love either. Platonically you enjoyed his presence and Bucky was someone you wanted to take care of. His physical closeness, one way or another, was something you kept finding yourself not being able to think without. 

Bucky gently ran his fingertips up and down your back, content with showering your lips with feathery kisses. In your arms he was safe. In your arms he was home.

He liked that it was just the two of you at the apartment. He couldn’t deal with many people at once because there was too much noise. Being the Winter Soldier, there were always war zones or gun shots. At least he was warm when he was asleep instead of in cryo, cold and alone. Under blankets and next to you was much more preferable. 

His fingers brushed your scar. It was quite large and discolored. Both of you had marks from time in HYDRA. Maybe it brought the two of your closer together, Bucky wasn’t sure and you weren’t either. But whenever Bucky traced near it, you huddled yourself to his core and his arm brought you closer. You hadn’t seen the horrors he had and were thankful for that. You had already broken down in his arms about your hand in his misery. If he was going to do something similar, you would be there for him.


	3. That Damn Cat - Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after the whole fallout with SHIELD/HYDRA, you and your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky aka The Winter Soldier aka The Other Man Out Of Time, had a lot of reacquainting to do. You had to learn how to deal with someone like Bucky while Bucky not only had to relearn how to be a boyfriend, but also with regaining his memories.  
> But he had you. And that was all he was in need of right now.
> 
> Post-You And Mr. Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen posts on tumblr that say Steve would be a dog person while Bucky would be more of a cat person. I'd have to agree. Steve is a golden retriever while Bucky is just a tabby cat/grumpy cat. 
> 
> Max's shenanigans will lead to a part two, of course.

You always opened the door to the apartment unless you had to go out alone to do some chores that Bucky didn’t want to accompany you on, being bank runs or clothes shopping. Everything from packages to visits, you handled. A few people did see Bucky and gave you a smile, a silent compliment to the handsome man. Others waved, but most ignored him. It had been just you for so long, after all. Your old friends from the hospital dropped by every now and again to see if you found a new job, wanted the old one back, and to ask for favors.

Which is why Bucky found himself staring at a cat one afternoon.

“Why?”

The cat stared back at him, taking deliberate steps forward every now and again.

“We’re just cat watching because Sofia’s going to be out of town for two days and it’s not like we’re doing anything,” you explained, getting a litter box set up near the door. “She says he’s a good kitty and won’t piss on anything.” 

You preferred rodents actually compared to cats or dogs. Dogs pissed on everything and bit stuff but were super loveable and loyal. Cats pissed on everything and hocked up hairballs, but were independent and could be left alone if need be. Rodents were a bit more self-contained in cages at least, but had short life spans. You had just been too busy for pets all together so you didn’t bother. 

A cat for a few days sounded nice. But was Bucky okay with cats? They both looked wary of the other, not blinking or making sudden movements.

You poured some food out for Max the cat before glancing over at Bucky. 

“Go away.” It moved closer. “I mean it.” A bit closer. “How about you bother someone else?” It put a paw on Bucky’s foot and let out a loud _miaooooo_. “Don’t give me that look.”

Bucky called out your name a little while after that.

“I don’t think he’s going to talk to you beyond that, sweetie,” you offered, walking over. “You only have to deal with Max for two nights and it’s back to Sofia.”  
“Good.” Bucky shifted his foot back and walked to sit on the couch.   
The sudden move made Max glare over at Bucky, highly offended that anyone could leave his presence so abruptly.

Through the hours, Bucky found himself nudging you and pointing over at the animal. “Is it dead? It hasn’t moved in a while.”

Bucky never had a pet himself so the habits of one were a mystery to him. Dogs around the park when he went out on walks with you were always lively and constantly seeking out the attention of their owners. Wouldn't cats be similar?

“Cats sleep for hours at a time. Leave him be. The more he sleeps the less I have to hear about him looking at you.”  
“Well it does… a lot.”  
“Have you considered that he thinks you’re a threat or something? If a cat blinks it trusts you.”  
“It hasn’t done that.” Bucky jumped up on the counter. “Guess it knows I’m the Winter Soldier?”  
“Yeah, Max is totally a spy, James. Glad you figured it out early,” you replied wryly.

Max padded around the floor after his supper, jumping on this and that before settling down on the couch for the night. You gave him a few ear scratches, delighted at the purring noise. The cat, however, kept his eyes on Bucky as your boyfriend headed to bed as well.

“You know, Max, I really do love him,” you whispered. “And I think he might love me back, so if you could be cool around him, I’d kind of appreciate that. Can you be cordial? It’s the arm, isn’t it?” Max looked up at you before gnawing on your finger. “That hurts. It wouldn’t hurt Bucky if you did that, but nooo, you do it to me… I’m talking to a cat.” You gave Max one final ear scratch before getting ready for bed. 

Bucky was waiting for you, already under the covers.  
“That cat is killing the mood. It’s like a roommate.”  
“I think it’s because you two are too much alike. Wary of strangers, but not unable to trust. And nice eyes… maybe we should get a cat, too!”  
“No cats.”  
“Please?”  
“No.”  
“A cat that likes you then. As hard to find as it might be,” you teased, kissing Bucky’s cheek. That was enough to bring a small smirk to his face.  
“If you can find me a kitten that won’t mind sticking around me, we can get one… but after you get a job.”  
“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Barnes.”  
“You have such a big heart there would be ten animals in here if you could manage, honey. I’m the balance.”  
“Go to sleep, James.”

 

You and Bucky awoke earlier than expected. The small body of Max was sitting in between the two of you, mewing loudly. Bucky stirred first and looked at the open door. It was closed last night. Immediately he was awake. He kept a gun in the night stand, just in case. You awoke to find Bucky checking corners of every room in the house. 

When he walked back in, he found you petting Max. “I think he’s hungry. Cats can open doors. Rather rude…”  
Bucky shrugged and stowed the gun away. Cats opening doors… ridiculous. 

You left Bucky and Max alone, and the two resumed their staring contest. “Listen, cat, you don’t like me and I don’t like you. But you’re only here for a day longer so the least we could do is get along.” 

Max merely turned around and headed to his food bowls. Bucky heard your voice say, “well hey, kitty!” a few minutes later while he was getting dressed. He walked out to see you holding Max in your arms, kissing his head and acting very… well… adorable.   
“You’re not like that with me,” he said, sitting down to eat his breakfast.   
“What ho? Is James Buchanan Barnes jealous?” you teased, putting Max on the floor so you could eat as well. “Then I’ll hold you to my breast and play with your hair all you want today, just for that crack.”  
“Mean that?”  
You looked over at him before hugging his head to your chest in earnest. “Sweetheart, I’d hold you every second of every day if I knew I wasn’t getting in your way. Don’t doubt that for a second.”  
“I know, I’m not going to forget that,” he muttered, face going warm.

A loud miao came from below the two of you, Max again. Seem he didn’t care for attention not being on him.   
You contented yourself playing with him while Bucky read nearby. When you had to leave the area, Max would stare at Bucky, not blinking, before making his way over to him.

“Oh, I’m worthy of being sat next to?” Bucky asked wryly, looking down at Max staring at his metal arm, his tail swishing back and forth. Cocking an eyebrow, Bucky moved his fingers, smirking when Max started suddenly.   
“Going to attack it?” he muttered, quickly moving the hand toward Max. The cat responded crouching low to the couch, back end high in the air. He was purring loudly, deciding what to do next.   
“Go for it, Max. That’s your name, right?” He hovered his hand right over Max’s head, chuckling as the cat rolled on his back and batted for the hand. Ye gods, he was playing with an animal. He felt at ease, and you weren’t there. It was odd, yet comforting that he could calm down without you. You wouldn’t be around twenty-four seven after all. 

You came back into the room to find Bucky calming giving Max a belly rub while holding up a book with his other hand.  
“What happened while I was gone?” you asked, leaning on the back of the couch and glancing down at your boyfriend. He looked up and shrugged.  
“He just jumped up. I don’t know.”  
“Good to see you two getting along. Sofia will be by this time tomorrow to get him, don’t forget.”  
“I know. By the time we get the cat hair off everything we’ll be babysitting another pet of a friend.”  
“Just when I thought you were getting soft,” you teased, kissing his head. Bucky smirked at that and let Max nibble on his fingers. 

He wouldn’t be smiling in the dead of night when Max decided to go on a little adventure around D.C.


	4. That Damn Cat - Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after the whole fallout with SHIELD/HYDRA, you and your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky aka The Winter Soldier aka The Other Man Out Of Time, had a lot of reacquainting to do. You had to learn how to deal with someone like Bucky while Bucky not only had to relearn how to be a boyfriend, but also how to deal with regaining his memories.  
> But he had you. And that was all he was in need of right now.
> 
> Post-You And Mr. Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A late evening adventure and bonding. Cat bonding.

Bucky woke up around three in the morning with a dire urge to use the bathroom. After peeling himself away from your hold and relieving himself, he found Max stepping around the counters of the kitchen.

“Max, go to bed. And get off that,” he growled, stepping to him. 

The window above the sink was open a tad to let in some air to cool down the late June temperatures. You weren’t worried about Max running away or just didn’t think he would. Max stuck his head out the window and Bucky’s fists clenched. 

“Don’t you fucking do that…”

As if answering the dare, Max slid out the window and onto the fire escape. “Max, you stupid cat, get back here!” Bucky hissed. He threw the window open to see the cat jumping down the stairs little by little. 

“… Shit.”

He had to work fast to make sure Max didn’t go too far. Sofia would be back by noon and would definitely want to know where her cat was. 

Rushing into the bedroom, Bucky paused when he saw you perfectly deep in sleep. Should he wake you up? This might warrant your attention, but then you’d insist on coming with him, and while he enjoyed that prospect, three a.m. was no time to be out looking for a cat when missing cats weren’t the only things running up and down the streets. You would be safer here.

He was nearly dressed in street clothes when you fidgeted in your sleep.

“Bucky, baby, what’re you doin’?”   
You could barely see him through bleary eyes, but sure enough he was dressed to go out.   
“Uh… we’re… out of milk. I’m going to the convenience store and will be back quick.”  
“It’s three in the morning…”  
“I want some for breakfast.”  
“Hurry back…” With that, you turned over and went back to sleep.

Taking another deep breath, Bucky armed himself with his small knife that he kept from his Winter Solider days. Any more protection would come from disarming a would-be mugger. Hopefully he could just grab his cat and leave. 

His cat? Bucky shook his head and headed on out the window and down the fire escape. He had seen most of these streets when he was homeless and was rather skilled at mapping an area quickly. Max couldn’t have gotten far. What was he going by? Cat hair? Cat shit? Sighing, he started down some alleyways, looking for cats with collars.

Every mile or so he would get a glimpse of Max, perusing cars parked on the side of the road or jumping on trash cans. Then he would notice Bucky and sprint off. Every false lead and new chase led to Bucky getting more and more frustrated. This cat was harder to get a hold of than he was back in his HYDRA days! It was almost admirable. 

A glance at his watch told him that dawn was nearing. You’d sleep in, but he wanted to find the cat before D.C. itself woke up.

“Max,” he whispered, walking down the streets. This was nearly impossible. Maybe he should just go back home and tell you that Max escaped out the window. No… that would mean you would blame yourself and he’d have to hear about that. Looks like he would have to find that damned cat. World-class assassin, World War II hero, Howlin’ Commando… cat locator. 

He closed his eyes for a second to gather his thoughts, soon hearing a pitiful mewl coming from an alleyway half a block down. Max? If not, something else that needed his help. He rushed down, stopping just short of the entrance.  
“It’s got a collar…”  
“Max? Stupid name.”  
“Come on, cut it off.”

Bucky put his hands into his pockets and stepped into view. Surely enough, it was Max.

“Hand the cat over,” he said. There was no way to make that sound intimidating, and the assholes – two scrawny white boys – didn’t take it that way either. They laughed and pointed the small knife at Max’s throat. The poor cat thrashed about, eyes locked onto Bucky. “Hand it over and no one gets hurt.”  
They didn’t look over twenty, but one did have a gun, and he looked very determined to show it off. “Yeah, fucker, this is a gun. Didn’t bring one? Too bad.”  
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Hate to bruise your ego, but I’ve been shot at before.”  
That seemed to make them hesitate a bit, but the one boy kept a firm grip on Max while the other kept the gun pointed at Bucky.   
It wasn’t even pointed straight, so Bucky took deliberate steps forward. “If you shoot me, I can’t account for what’ll happen to you, but it’ll probably be…” He took out his knife for effect. “A sharp knife in your heart. You’ll have a thirty percent chance of survival if you seek medical attention right away.”  
“You’re… you wouldn’t stab us?”  
“It’d be self-defense at this point, wouldn’t it?”

A gun shot would alert attention and scare away Max again. He had to both talk them down and intimidate them. In moments like this, killing seemed the easy answer. 

“Hand… over… the cat.”

With shaking hands, the one boy gave Bucky the cat Max, who clung to Bucky’s shirt. Stowing away his knife, he brought his metal hand out and launched it into the stomach of the one that threatened him with a gun. No one was going to get away with that, even if nothing happened. He didn’t accept threats on his life. And they were about to hurt poor Max.   
The boy collapsed at his feet, coughing up blood, while the other ran for his life.  
“Pathetic. You don’t deserve this.” Bucky picked up the hand gun and stowed it in his waistband and made his way back to the apartment.

“You really made my life hell, Max,” he said, climbing up the fire escape as dawn began to hit. “I had to rescue you and you’re repaying me with holes in this shirt. You didn’t have to run. What was that, a game to you?”

Safely back in the apartment, Bucky put Max on the ground before closing and locking the window. “Done. Now go to bed. I know I am.”

Max swished his tail before following Bucky back to the main bedroom. “Where do you think you’re going?” Max mewled and sat on Bucky’s foot. “Oh, now you’re thankful? Cats…” Bucky picked him up and set him on the couch. “Want to pay me back? Stay here until I wake up.”   
_Mewwwww._ Right. 

Bucky stripped, stowed the gun away in the nightstand drawer, and fell next you to. You were breathing deeply, no doubt going to be well rested in the morning.

Lucky.

 

When you woke the next morning, you just couldn’t get Bucky to get out of bed, no matter what you said to him.

“Did you have bad dreams last night?” you asked tenderly, rubbing his back. “Couldn’t sleep?”  
“Something did keep me up,” he muttered, shifting slightly. “Just let me sleep now.”  
“All right.” You leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I’ll keep Max out of here for you.” You brushed Bucky’s hair back and found him looking up at you.  
“Keep an eye on him.”  
“Okay, sweetheart.”

You got your own breakfast going, lamenting a lack of milk for Bucky. Last night you had this crazy dream of waking up at three to find Bucky going out the door for a gallon. It must have been a dream because there wasn’t anything there. More proof lay in the fact that Bucky would never get out of bed to do something like that.

“Grocery run when Bucky wakes up,” you said to Max, who was at your feet. “Did you sleep well?”  
He trotted off, slipping underneath the couch. You shook your head. Cats.

Bucky woke up only to move to the kitchen and eat whatever was in sight. He seemed to be in one of those moods and you often showed affection by feeding, so you merely smiled softly as Bucky patted the stool next to him.   
“James?” you asked when he cleared his plate again and got up to find some more food.  
“Yeah, honey?”  
“I did dream that last night? You getting milk in the middle of the night?”  
He paused in front of the fridge. “Why would I get milk that late?”  
“That’s what I thought. So it was a dream… stupid dream. Your ass looks nice in those boxers.” His back muscles looked really nice too, with all his bending and shifting. Truthfully, he really was a good-looking guy. And you had sex with that! Good for you!  
“Is that a fact?” he asked over his shoulder, taking your giggle as confirmation. “You’re a flirt.”  
“Born flirt.” You hid your head as you watched Bucky inhale a whole jar of applesauce. It wasn’t even half empty. “You’re a pig sometimes.”  
“I’m hungry.”  
“Yeah, but you can be neat about it,” you pointed out as Bucky tossed the jar into the trash.  
“Sorry.” He walked back over to you and kissed your cheek. “When’s your friend picking up the cat?”  
“A half hour.”  
Bucky glanced over at the couch where Max was still hiding. Or sleeping. Or dead. It was hard to tell with cats.   
“Half hour.” 

One half hour and he wouldn’t have to worry about chasing after it on the other side of the city. Thank God. And it would be just the two of you again. He hadn’t made love to you in at least… well, at least a day and a half. But on the other hand, there was a tiny bond formed with that cat. They were silly creatures, but not unaffectionate. Maybe he would get you a cat. A little kitten. That way if he ever had to be away, you would have something with you that would remind you of him. Or vice versa, God forbid. He would have to say that he loved you first. Before big gifts like that.

He cleared his throat at the thought of you under the covers and straightened his back. You were looking at him curiously. What look was his face giving off to make you so contemplative? 

“Honey, how about I take you out on a date soon?”  
“A date, Bucky?”  
“Yeah, a date, just the two of us.”  
“Okay, where would this be?” you asked with a smile.  
“I don’t know yet.”  
“Then when you find somewhere, I’d love to.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek back and held his hand. 

Bucky got dressed in something to cover his arm and sat on the couch with you while waiting for Sofia to arrive. Max was perched delicately on the arm of the sofa, surveying his surroundings like some great lion on a rock on the savannah.   
“What do you think he’s thinking about?” you asked to Bucky, sighing happily as he hugged your middle.  
“Probably how high he is.”  
“Maybe… mmm, you give nice hugs.”  
“Thanks.”  
A swift knock on the door caused Max to jump high into the air and tumble onto the ground. The two of you shot up to see if he was okay, but the cat was already stretching and walking toward the door as if the whole fall had been planned.   
Bucky rolled his eyes and stretched onto the couch, waiting for you to see your friend off.

“Hey Sofia.”  
“Hey you! How was Max?”  
“Great. How was the conference?”  
“Like they always are – boring. Hey, where’s he going?”

Bucky opened his eyes to find Max sitting on his stomach. Then there was a paw on his nose.

“What are you doing?” he muttered, glancing at the two women staring back at him. “This is a goodbye?” He scratched at Max’s head, keeping his metal arm hidden. “Now go on home, Max. And don’t give her any trouble.”   
_Miao._  
Max closed his eyes and nuzzled on Bucky before walking back over to Sofia.   
“Such manners,” she hummed, gathering Max’s things and putting him in his little cage. “Bye, you two.”

You and Bucky gave a wave and Sofia was gone.  
“Well that was an uneventful two days,” you said out loud, sitting on Bucky’s middle.  
Bucky merely gave a grunt before picking you up and sitting you back down. You cocked a brow as Bucky lay against your chest and adjusted himself.  
“Is this how you’re going to ask for affection?” you asked softly, playing with Bucky’s hair. “You’re cute.”

His response was nuzzling your chest. Maybe Bucky did kind of miss Max. But other things were weighing on him. Like how he was almost cooped up in your apartment. How you said you were his girlfriend yet he wasn’t doing boyfriend duties outside of sex or living together or being nice. Your ministrations helped him alleviate some of these feelings. Yes, emotions were rather difficult to deal with, almost as bad as memories, though they were connected. Time was needed to sort those out.

He would kiss you later. He would make love to you later. Now all he wanted was to be held by you.


	5. Let The Education Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after the whole fallout with SHIELD/HYDRA, you and your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky aka The Winter Soldier aka The Other Man Out Of Time, had a lot of reacquainting to do. You had to learn how to deal with someone like Bucky while Bucky not only had to relearn how to be a boyfriend, but also how to deal with regaining his memories.  
> But he had you. And that was all he was in need of right now.
> 
> Post-You And Mr. Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It must be goddamn exhausting trying to catch anyone up on the whole of the world past 1945. I mean, for Bucky, he would be caught up on guns. Everything else, I mean.

In the moments you had out of bed with Bucky (he did love to drag you back into it more often than not), you spent it catching up on the modern day. Google was your friend. History one day, modern medicine the next, American culture after that, tech advancements following, and you ended the week with music. Whenever Bucky read a news article that involved foreign affairs, you would have to work back at least thirty years for background in order to explain how things led to their current situation. 

It was exhausting because you didn't always have the answers, and Bucky wouldn't be ignorant about anything. Sometimes you dropped him off at the library to pick up books about the past and world histories, which he would devour. Maybe he could have been a professor if he lived out the war on his terms.

You smiled whenever Bucky got excited about something. History and war... he had his fill of that, though never stopped pouring over books written by winners and losers. It seemed that he was happy to avoid certain conflicts. Reading American war atrocities made him sick, but he powered through. 

Luckily you were a person of medicine, which made catching Bucky up on that field that much easier. 

“You mean people don't want to get vaccinated?!” Bucky spluttered, half choking on his lunch.  
You sighed. “Apparently people think vaccines cause autism, poison their children or support the evil pharmacies that make money off them. Take your pick, it's all bad. When I left the hospital, you wouldn't believe how many kids were in there from diseases we should have eradicated by now. They were taking up space and shouldn't have even had to be there. It's really hard not to strangle some parents who insist that no vaccines are the way to go when the kids were healthy enough to have them.”  
“But... have you seen someone suffer from polio?” Bucky asked, rubbing his head. “It's heart-breaking! And parents know that?!”  
“Yeah. Trust me, it comes in cycles every now and again where Americans just don't want to vaccinate. It's stupid and I get to deal with the fallout, which is sick and dying kids.”

Bucky had to be caught up on the civil rights movements of the various ages, but was warned that equality wasn't quite there yet. It was better than what it was, seventy years being the difference between Bucky’s time and now. However, disproportionate outcomes in everything from housing to available jobs to police treatment to representation were still quite common. Too common. 

“I guess being in a war like I was in prepared you that things weren't always golden. Nothing about here is really heaven,” Bucky sighed, watching TV with you. “There's still bullshit happening everywhere?”  
“Yeah... it's not the best place to live, but it's far from the worst. I'm happy to be a doctor because I make a lot of cash to live well, but you wouldn't believe how much I had to pay to become one. I'm still paying off student loans.”  
“How... how much does it cost to go to college?” Bucky asked, looking over at you.  
You pulled up your laptop and showed him just how much it took out of a regular kid to go. Then you showed the most popular part-time jobs for college students and how much they paid.  
“They've made it so you can barely pay for it! Or can't!” he said incredulously. “Not a lot of people went to college when I was growing up, but it was affordable at least!”  
“Preaching to the choir. I'm lucky if I'm out of debt before I'm forty,” you sighed. “Welcome to the 21st century. College is a necessity that’s priced as a luxury.”

Bucky sighed and stared at the new coffee table in front of him. A part of him wanted to put another fist through it. Sometimes there were things about the modern age that he just couldn't believe. For as smarter as everyone was, sometimes everyone seemed downright ignorant. But there wasn't much he could do. At least he had you. That much was good.

“Hey Bucky, can I ask you something?” He turned his head. “When I was your doctor, I noticed that you had trackers planted in the subcutaneous layer. Did you... did you happen to get those out before you settled down here?”  
He nodded. “Yeah, I dug those out with a pocket knife and a pair of tweezers ages ago. You're not going to have HYDRA kick down these doors any time soon, honey.”  
“Well that's good. I'm guessing the serum stopped any infections or scars.”  
“Yeah. It's supposed to just enhance what I already have. It wasn't perfect though, not like Steve's.”  
“So you must have been pretty stubborn then... willful... brave... protective,” you hummed. “And a really good shot since you were decorated in the army.”  
“Maybe if I wasn't then I wouldn't be where I am now...” Bucky sighed and stared at his metal arm. “I love and hate this thing. I guess it's better than no arm, but it stands out and I hate that.”  
You bit your lip as you stared at Bucky's face. It was barely concealed self-hatred for what he had become. He still viewed himself as a monster. 

Yet there was nothing much you could say outside of tiny reassurances. What _could_ you say? Well, there was one thing.

“You know what? I still love you anyway, even with the metal arm,” you replied with a sort of confidence that surprised you. 

That was the first time you told Bucky that you loved him. There probably should have been a bit more sentiment put into it, or a nicer setting without CNN playing in the background, but there you went. 

He turned slowly to look at you, ears refusing to believe what he had heard. “What?”  
“I love you, metal arm or assassin past or shortage of memory.”  
“You love me?”  
“I’d say don’t make me say it again, but I’m not going to apologize for it.” You perched yourself upon the arm of the chair and studied Bucky, who in turn studied you.  
His stare was unwavering and it looked like he was struggling with what to say next.  
 _I love you… say I love you… nothing would make me happier… I know you have trouble with it, but just say it…_  
These thoughts pounded through your head, trying to will Bucky to take the next step in your relationship.  
“You _love_ me?!”  
You sighed heavily and swung your legs over to the floor and turned off the TV set. “I can see this is going to take a while to process. I’m going to take a bath.” 

With a ruffle of your boyfriend’s hair, you headed to the bathroom. Did you disguise your disappointment well enough? Fuck no. You hoped that Bucky didn’t feel guilty about not saying anything back. He couldn’t say it back for the next fifty years and you’d be okay with it. Not one hundred percent okay with it, but who said being the girlfriend to the former Winter Soldier would be easy?

The water was still hot when Bucky wandered into the bathroom. You had just soaked your knees and had gotten quite comfortable.  
“Hey, sweetheart,” you greeted. You got nothing in return. “You okay?”  
He sat on the towel on the floor and looked over at you, arms folded on the lip of the tub. “Why do you love me? How _can_ you love me?”  
“It’s just something I feel…” You shrugged and continued. “You know… the heart wants what the heart wants, you can’t hurry love, I can’t help falling in love with you, all you need is love…” 

Bucky blinked. You pressed forward. 

“Bucky… James… you can’t imagine how much I care about you. About your well-being, your past, present and future. I like being around you. I’m dedicated to you. I’m involved. I may not know you as well as other people know you, but I want to. All these things, these components start to add up and I realized that I love you. Heart and soul. You may not believe it, but I’ve never felt more at ease with anyone in my life.  
“You’re putting too much blame on yourself for the past. I don’t see you as a monster, despite what you seem to believe. You’re not a villain in this great story of life, despite it all. You’re my champion. So yeah… why do I love you? Because everything’s pointing to that. I can love you because I recognize the goodness in you, even if you can’t see it. I love you, Bucky, plain and simple.”  
“I… I…”  
“You don’t have to feel compelled to say it back, sweetie,” you whispered, leaning over to kiss his cheek.  
“I don’t?”  
“It’s okay if you don’t love me. It won’t stop me from loving you.”

At that, Bucky wanted to stand up and scream. To throw something. To express his frustration with himself. Yes, he loved you. By God, he loved you. He never could have imagined getting back to that point in his humanity, but he was there. And he just couldn’t say it.

It was an aftereffect of being with HYDRA for so long. Everyone he loved or knew was dead thanks to HYDRA either keeping him in cryo or sending him out on an assassination mission. Yes, he loved you more than any woman he had ever known. But he was still emotionally stunted, still working on how to prove himself to you. There had been no grand gestures, no poetic compositions, and no shows of flower bouquets _just because_. Maybe there would never be. You seemed okay that he never would say ‘I love you’. That wouldn’t do. But it had to for now.

“Come here, honey.” He settled for leaning into the tub and kissing you. Maybe a kiss would communicate some of what words couldn’t. It did seem to satisfy you because you were smiling pretty brightly. “What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”  
“Tech. Should be fun. Lots to catch up with.”  
“Can’t wait… and hurry up with that bath.” He stood up, took your change of clothes from off the counter and headed out the door.

Your champion. 

“He’ll say it someday,” you whispered to yourself before scrubbing your limbs.


	6. Argentinian Barbecue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after the whole fallout with SHIELD/HYDRA, you and your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky aka The Winter Soldier aka The Other Man Out Of Time, had a lot of reacquainting to do. You had to learn how to deal with someone like Bucky while Bucky not only had to relearn how to be a boyfriend, but also how to deal with regaining his memories.  
> But he had you. And that was all he was in need of right now.
> 
> Post-You And Mr. Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead! Some slight bonding, but more SMUT.

Tech days were spent showing Bucky how much easier everything was now. Microwaves, cell phones, no touch faucets, MP3s, Netflix, e-readers, e-mail, online banking and online ticket purchasing was just the beginning. 

“You can actually order pizza online and they'll bring it right to your door,” you explained.  
After a long day, the two of you were lying on the couch. Despite how toned he was, Bucky was quite comfortable to lie on, and you often took the opportunity to do that. Bucky himself was content with massaging your lower back while you were nestled between his legs. A small smile played upon his lips as he stared at you.  
“They drive it to you?”  
“Yeah. There are a bunch of places that home deliver. It's weird. Doctors used to make house calls and now they don't, but food is brought to your door now.”  
“Seems convenient.”  
“It doesn't always taste the best, but if you're too tired to cook, it's perfect.”  
“Can we have some tonight?”  
“What are you in the mood for?”  
“What is there?”  
“Um...” You stifled a giggle as Bucky's hands wandered up the back of your shirt. “Chinese, Indian, Italian, Greek, Arabic and Argentinean off the top of my head. I've sampled them all, but I do like Argentinean barbecue.”  
He found your bra clasp and undid it. “Then we'll have that after.”  
“After...?”  
“We can eat in _after_ I eat you out.”  
“Oh... ohhh...”

With a quick motion, you were on your back with a hand on your breast. Bucky worked to whip your yoga pants and underwear off before going to town on you. It was almost selfish how much pleasure he got out of seeing you lose your composure. He melded with the areas that throbbed, getting both better and worse with his attention. Your fingers ran through his hair, long and dark, and pushed his head shamelessly closer. You looked down to see Bucky's bright blue eyes glint with lust, the corners of his mouth turning up in a grin. A wicked grin.

It was still on your mind when you were ordering a few courses from _La Mesa_ later on in the day. Just looking at your boyfriend got you to be a stuttering mess, and he took immense satisfaction in that. When you hung up, he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your shoulder.  
“How long?”  
“About a half-hour.”

You blushed as he nibbled at your ear. There was never a doubt in your mind that Bucky really did like you, but you thought that week upon week of sex once or twice a day would make him bored. Not so! It was more than high sex drives between the two of you. Actually, spending time together was wonderful. Getting caught up with the times was fun, even with subjects you found to be dull.

Speaking of, Bucky needed to be caught up on modern day slang as well. Though he picked it up rather quickly, sometimes he had to ask you had certain words meant, and you the same to him when he used words that had fallen out of the lexicon for half a century. It seemed tedious to you, as slang in America seemed to die within the month it was created. 

In your closet you kept a small journal of words Bucky asked about to help you get a feel for what he needed to know. In it was a general list of things of note, like movies, people and events. Sometimes when walking on the street, so many things were thrown around as common knowledge it really made you stand up and take notice. Therefore, you started to keep track of it in the journal. Bucky knew where it was.

“Bucky?”  
“Mmm... yeah, honey?” he asked, fingers playing with the cleavage your shirt was showing off.   
“Can you go into my closet and get your journal? We should go over it while we're waiting.”

He seemed unwilling to let you out of his grip just yet, but he settled for a quick pinch on your ass before heading to the bedroom. You hummed and re-ordered a few things, waiting for him to get back. But he didn't. It was oddly quiet in there.

“Buck? James?” you asked, wandering in to see what was taking so long.  
Your boyfriend was looking over-the-top puzzled two steps inside the closet, staring at an empty space on a shelf.   
“Why, I can't find it!”  
He would never be an actor, but you were curious. It was right where you left it, wasn't it?

“Bucky, you're being weird,” you muttered, stepping inside was well to look. Bucky sidled past you toward the door, but you didn't notice because you found the journal lying against the wall in the corner. He didn't even try to hide it. In reality, you had a decent closet space for D.C., all thanks to what you could get on a doctor's salary. The floor even had a nice rug. “It's like you tossed it over here.”  
“Hmm, so I did.”  
He was already closing the door. You saw a downright dirty smile cross his features before the last bit of light was snuffed.   
“Bucky, what exactly are you doing?” you asked, like you didn't know. In fact, your arms were already around him.   
His voice was gruff as your pants came off once again, his following suit. “We haven't fucked in here yet.”

The two of you disappeared in between heavy winter coats. There wasn't much to grab a hold of and you didn't want to hang all of your weight on the coat rack, so you held onto Bucky, sandwiched between the wall and your boyfriend. It was kind of a perverse thrill to fuck in a closet. It was true that you had sex with Bucky just about everywhere else in your apartment - the shower, the bathroom floor, the kitchen floor, the couch, the recliner, the kitchen counter and even on the ottoman. 

Bucky had a great internal clock and he planned on driving into you up until the food arrived. With your legs hooked around him, his metal arm latched around your middle while his human arm supported your ass. His forearm was firmly wedged between your cheeks. Before you knew what would happen next, you were moaning as his fingers ventured inside you.

“What I wouldn't give to see your face right now.” Half of the thrill did come from not being able to see each other, but you didn't doubt Bucky's face was lust personified. 

You took to kissing and nibbling on Bucky's neck. He loved it, he really did. Your mouth anywhere on his body sent him off the edge. His fingers curled at the thought of you sucking him off in the shower not two days ago. Your tongue would do him in any day now, what was currently working its way up to his ear. 

“If you're gonna do that, I'm going to fill you up until the food gets here,” he huffed.  
“Would you want me to answer the door without pants?” you asked, sucking on his ear lobe. You were awfully even-voiced for someone being fingered in the way Bucky was currently doing.  
“If we had it our way, we wouldn't be wearing clothes ever. No... pants... is good for this,” he muttered, adjusting you slightly before lowering you down onto his cock. 

Usually you kept it down during sex, never being the type to wail and scream. But for whatever reason, upright sex made you lose some of your inhibitions. Bucky knew this and sometimes took advantage of it. Considering he couldn't see you, he wanted to hear you. He wanted to know you were receiving pleasure with each thrust he gave you.

You cried out with each push Bucky gave, your fingers wrapped up in his hair as he drove on. He couldn't go very fast and slipped out of you once or twice from overestimating how far he could go. Tsking in frustration, he moved to sit down, keeping you enveloped around him. 

“Thank God there's a rug down here,” he offered, squeezing your cheeks as you took over in rhythm. “Imagine a wood floor on my bare ass.”  
“Yeah, there was a nice sale down in the department store. I mean, you can't - Buck, I need to go higher - see it now, but you probably would look nice on it, all naked. Imagine coming home to that.”  
“Honey, we can try that later, now go faster.”

You gasped as you slid up and down, but Bucky could only imagine your face. He put his lips forward and kissed whatever was in front of him. 

Your collarbone was nipped at as your hands gripped his shoulders. The food was going to be at your door very quickly, so your goal was obvious: get Bucky to come as fast as you could. Of course if this was a normal day you'd be dragging it out, holding it back, trying to keep control on your emotions. This wasn't a normal day. Time to let loose.

Bucky liked it when you moaned his name. He really liked it when you nipped his neck. My, did he lose his mind whenever you sucked on his lips.  
He felt you shift, so he fought his urges. Bucky wanted to stay in that closet and drive into you, come hell or high water... or some Argentinean barbecue. 

When his name gasped from your lips and commented on his size, he bucked his hips. When you suckled on his neck and licked each spot, he squeezed your ass. When you nibbled his lips and sucked on them, it was enough for him to choke on air.  
You were just as good at fucking as he was. And he did remember being quite good at it. 

“Fuck it,” he muttered, lying back onto your nice rug. You thought you had won, and you did, but Bucky had to lose on his own terms. He took a firm hold of your hips, braced your knees on either side of his hips and rammed into you repeatedly. In and out came short breaths until he filled you. White and hot his cum came dribbling out, but you were a bit too busy trying to catch your breath on Bucky's chest to notice.  
“You're right... I really do wish I could see the look on your face,” you chuckled. Your hands found Bucky's face and you gave him a kiss on the cheek.   
“I'm sure it was nothing but concentration. You should put some pants on.”  
“Why? I want to lie here a bit longer.”  
“Because the guy with the food will be here in approximately fifteen seconds if the time they gave you was accurate.”  
“Maybe traffic is bad...”  
“Honey, I won't hesitate to get it myself without pants on.”  
“Well, I'd certainly tip him extra if that happened.” With that, you kissed Bucky again before opening the closet door. It had been closed long enough to where you winced at the light.  
“What a fucking sight,” you heard Bucky growl behind you. No pants, no underwear, his finger imprints still on each cheek. Bucky always thought you looked the most beautiful after sex. You looked like you glowed, honestly. 

You glanced over to see your boyfriend sprawled out on your closet floor, eyes hungrily looking at you. A squeal flew out you as the door buzzed.   
The pure smugness on his face made you slam the closet door shut. You whipped on some pants as you headed to your buzzer. “Yeah yeah... sorry, I was held up. You can come up now.”

The voice that answered you sounded familiar. Almost too familiar. Years and years old. Perhaps you would recall the face when he came up. With a quick glance at the mirror, you really did look loved upon recently with near swollen lips and sweaty armpits. But you didn't care.   
Bucky was shuffling around the apartment with a loose jacket on. Whenever company threatened to arrive, he was quick to hide his metal arm.   
“Can you get that notebook?” you asked, getting some cash out of your wallet.   
Bucky shrugged. “Okay, honey.”

He walked off, and in the closet he could hear you speak with the man at the door. You sounded surprised to see him, which was odd because you were expecting him. How did you know his name already? Or the man in general to start light conversation? He gripped the small notebook. 

When his emotionless Winter Soldier self started to break down bit by bit, he learned of ways to express himself. He was quite good at some: anger, lust, intimacy, sadness and even happiness. One emotion that Bucky was having a hard time controlling was his jealousy. 

For such a long time, he had no one. Now he had you and he was very scared of losing you to someone else, HYDRA or otherwise. So he kept close by you. He got envious of the attention of other males toward you and defensive when you called him on it. He was satisfied with your assertion that you weren't going to be breaking up with him or kicking him out on the streets because, damn it, you loved him more than you could bear. Still, he couldn't help those pangs of worry he got when men flirted with you. And they did a bit when you were out with him. Worry when it happened, but relief when you brushed them off. It was a cycle he needed to break from.

When Bucky stepped out of the bedroom, he saw you with a few bags of food in your hands. The man was about to leave, but stopped to gaze at him. 

“Who's that?”   
Bucky was able to disguise his jealousy a bit better than the man in front of him. His face was nothing short of weighing the odds of if he was significant to you.  
“That, Brian, is my boyfriend James,” you answered shortly. “James, this is Brian. We used to go to college together. I wasn't aware he was still in D.C.”  
“Yeah, hard to find a job in this economy if you're not a doctor. Didn't know you had a boyfriend.”  
Brian was of middling height, had a bad case of dandruff, yellowing teeth and looked poorly taken care of in general.   
“How would you?” you replied. Bucky read a slight show of disgust on your face. “We haven't talked in five years.”  
“Well...”  
“Honey, here's your notebook,” Bucky said, walking over to you and taking the food.  
“Thanks, sweetie. Bye, Brian.”  
“Bye.” Brian looked between you two one last time before heading on out.

Bucky waited until the table was set before diving into a round of questions.  
“No, who was that?”  
“He really liked me during college. I didn't like him at all. He was a real loser, what can I say?” You shrugged and passed him some meat.   
Bucky nodded and began to eat. “Why'd he look at me the way he did?” He knew the answer but wanted to hear it from you.  
“Jealousy? You'd know something about it.” Okay, that he didn't want to hear. “He's got nothing on you though, in looks or in personality.”  
“Well, he can't help looks.”  
“Oh yes he can. He doesn't buy the essentials. He's a functioning alcoholic who's only working there because he's been fired from every job he's had since I've known him.” You looked very bitter about the whole thing. “Guess he either got his shit together or he's lining up to be fired again. You can't blame alcohol on everything.”  
“Is there something you're not telling me?” he asked softly, putting a hand to your shoulder. It's something he used to do with Steve to assure a presence of trust and protection. The same worked for you.  
“God, he... he accused me of not giving him a chance and that he was being so friendly and nice to me that I must have been absolutely frigid to turn him down 'before he even asked me out'. I saw right through him, all that manipulation. He was a real misogynist, but I was 'different'. I was so surprised to see him because I thought he went back to his home town to get a job with a family friend. That was five years ago so I cut ties with him and went about my life. I mean... he's harmless, but that doesn't make me want to spend extra time with him if I don't have to.” You put a hand over Bucky's and sighed. “So you don't have anything to be jealous about. I know you've always been genuine with me.”  
“So... we don't order Argentinean again?”  
“Well, I don't think so. Again, he's harmless, it's just awkward. I guess I just regret the energy I wasted socializing with him when I could have been doing something else. I'm kind of angry at myself for not knowing better.”  
Bucky nodded and massaged your lower back. “You know, if you ever need him... taken care of...”  
At that, of all things, you laughed. You laughed before getting out of your seat and straddling Bucky's lap. “As much as your assassin skills would come in handy, they're not needed. Promise.”  
“If you say so, honey.” He gave you a smirk before his hands traveled down to your ass. Again, that was one of his preferred areas. You preferred his... well, his everything.  
“Mmm... are you dolly dizzy for me?” You had fun the other day looking up forties slang. You were surprised that some of it was still around today.  
“Dolly dizzy, oh God yes,” Bucky muttered, nosing around your shoulder.   
“Well, girl crazy is more or less skirt chaser in today's lingo, or ladies' man, or player, or Casanova. Some of those have negative connotations.”  
“Is that a fact? I'm only dizzy for you though, so what does that make me?”   
“My boyfriend, thank God. And for the record, I get jealous when everyone stares at you when we're out, but you don't see me offering to stab them in the kidney or anything.”  
“Well I don't doubt you know where the kidneys are,” Bucky teased.   
Your hands snaked up the back of his shirt. “Mmm...”  
“You like what you see?” he whispered, taking his shirt off.   
“Sometimes I feel like I don't get to admire it enough.” His torso truly was something perfect. Hard pecs, perfect abs, smooth up and down. “Nice broad shoulders.”

Bucky put his arms back and let your hands wander up and down his chest. He still couldn't believe it. You... found him attractive? Of course you were quite lovely yourself, so it was obvious why he loved your touch. After being a monster for so long, Bucky wasn't sure how you were able to get past it. Especially his metal arm. It wasn't normal. It was functional, but not made for relationships. 

But when you kissed him, like you were doing now, he often forgot about it. 

“Mmm,” he groaned, pushing your pelvis into his. “Honey, baby, you've got dishes tonight. You hate them stacked up...”  
“Doesn't seem like you want me to leave your lap.”  
“Don't tempt me...”  
“Then use that strategic mind of yours and think something up.”  
“It's only forks and... cups...”   
“A bonus of take-out is limited dishes.” You leaned back from your position to get a better look at Bucky. “Hmm, how about you wait for me in the bedroom? I'll be there in ten minutes and I'll do whatever you want.”  
“Deal.”

Bucky stood, hands on your waist, and placed you in front of the sink. A couple handfuls of utensils and cups followed. Then he raced off to the bedroom. Damn, and you thought HYDRA had a firm grip on his actions. Sex goddess you were, after all.

By the time you finished, you could feel your heart racing for what awaited you in the bedroom. What did you promise your boyfriend? That you'd do whatever he wanted? Just what would that entail? Whatever it was going to be, you were pumped. Ready. Willing. Excited.

“Sweetheart, I'm done,” you announced, stepping inside. 

He was nowhere to be found. Unless...

You took two steps to your left and opened your closet door. There he was. Bare-ass naked on your nice rug, lying back and propped up on his elbows. 

“What a fucking sight,” you muttered, whipping your clothes off and kicking the door shut.

And so it went.


	7. You Want To Be A Part Of It - New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after the whole fallout with SHIELD/HYDRA, you and your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky aka The Winter Soldier aka The Other Man Out Of Time, had a lot of reacquainting to do. You had to learn how to deal with someone like Bucky while Bucky not only had to relearn how to be a boyfriend, but also how to deal with regaining his memories.  
> But he had you. And that was all he was in need of right now.
> 
> Post-You And Mr. Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky was thinking that a trip to New York would be a good idea. The chance at finding himself was too good to pass up. And you were coming with him. This was a surprise to you, but you had to concede that it was your idea in the first place. What adventures would the Big Apple hold? You would just have to wait and see.

Bucky wanted to go to New York, back to Brooklyn. You had tossed out the suggestion a few weeks ago lying in bed. Truthfully you thought it was an excellent idea, but also thought Bucky would turn down the offer. He wasn’t ready for many social things and often preferred you to be around him. Of course this trip would be a solo expedition for Bucky while you would sit around your apartment and await his return. Maybe even look for a job again. Maybe even outside of D.C. The farther away from the government, the better, as far as you were concerned. Bucky could stand for some quiet, too. 

Perhaps Bucky should have been more specific. He wanted you to come. In fact, he wouldn’t go if you weren’t coming along with him. You learned this when he was packing for you. Or more accurately digging through your drawers and tossing its contents inside an open suitcase.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing? Bringing my stuff along as keepsakes or something?”  
“No, you’re coming with me.” He didn’t even bother turning around to say that, and instead kept to folding his things. “I want to be there for ten days. That should be enough. Do you think that the hotel has a laundry service or should we pack more clothes?”  
“I’m going?”  
“Well… yeah. I’m not going by bus.”  
“So I’m driving?”  
“Again, yeah.” He looked up at you. “You suggested it.”  
“I suggested that you go by yourself. I’d just get in the way or slow you down.”  
Bucky actually looked hurt. “What makes you say that?”  
“Um…” You hesitated a bit, not quite sure why you did say that. “Usually this type of thing is a solo mission where heroes go out by themselves to go on a self-discovery… thing. I thought that’s what you’d be doing.”  
“But I want you to come.”

You didn’t have a bottomless bank account. Bucky and you together were eating up through savings. Even your frugal lifestyle – that put away much more money than people expected right into the bank – didn’t allow for months without a job. You could feel your medicinal knowledge slipping away, even with the books you kept after med school. 

Frankly, you needed to get back into the field. You supposed, though, a few more weeks couldn’t hurt. Your emergency fund had about four more months of jobless living in it before you would have to actively search for one and eight months before you wouldn’t be able to pay rent on time, but you didn’t want to start back up from nothing, especially while supporting another person.

“Fine. But we aren’t staying in a five-star hotel. I’m going back to pinching pennies.”  
“Book it for us, honey.” You turned around to do so before Bucky started talking again. “I’m going to find myself. Find where I used to go. I don’t care if it’s changed. I’m going to show you where I came from.”

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to acknowledge that, by saying something or turning around. By Bucky’s shuffling behind you, you decided to continue to your laptop and book a hotel. It was a five-hour drive to Brooklyn, including bathroom breaks and leg stretches. It was also the first time out of the city for you in months and months. 

Bucky had been in a general contemplative mood through the past couple weeks. He wasn’t in the mood to have sex much of the time, preferring to put you in his lap and hold you while watching TV. What he didn’t tell you was that he felt like he wasn’t being a good enough boyfriend by only fulfilling one aspect of a relationship. He needed to connect with you on a deeper level. Perhaps the reason he hadn’t been getting many memories from emotionally connecting sex was because he wasn’t at the same level with you as you were with him. Or he was just so emotionally stunted that he never would. A small part of him hoped that this change of what he thought worked was because he was running out of memories to gain back, at least through sex. After all, the same thing happened with the Smithsonian exhibit. Nevertheless, this frustration led Bucky to withdraw further into himself, much like his Winter Soldier days, at least in your eyes.

It was almost like he regressed, but you considered that he was busy sorting his emotions out. Such a pace at HYDRA’s facilities and missions, keeping a one-track mind and not being able to do what he wanted severely affected his psychology. He cried exactly once since you had known him and what was when he got his memories back of you. Not all of them, but some of them. Some days he seemed close to doing that again, crying, like at nights when he would spend hours sitting up in bed, thinking you were asleep to not notice. Other days he seemed restless, wanting to take walks with you more often but not doing much talking. You had hoped that this change of desires and attitude was due to him reaching another breakthrough, which would cause him to be more intimate and emotionally expressive. Was it something to do with facing normalcy? Like soldiers and prisoners sometimes having trouble to adjusting to peaceful times?

You weren’t sure. You weren’t a psychologist. It was times like this when you were unsure of whether or not that would be a good thing. Maybe Bucky wouldn’t prefer someone picking his brains. The two of you didn’t talk much for the rest of the day. That fact kept you staring at the ceiling that night.

It was around two in the morning before you rolled on your side to face your boyfriend.  
“Bucky?” you whispered while the two of you lay in bed the night before the trip. “James?”  
“Honey, baby, what? About to fall asleep…”  
Bucky was never closed off during the nights in bed with you. That much you were thankful for.  
“Maybe I won’t be an MD at a really busy hospital with long hours… a family practitioner sounds nice. I won’t make as much but we could both live on it… and the hours would be regular so you wouldn’t be waiting for me…”  
“Whatever makes you happy. Don’t worry about me, honey. You’re important, really important…”  
Late night talks with Bucky always made you brush the scar on your stomach. Perhaps it was the air of vulnerability between the two of you, but the area itched when it happened. That was probably more psychological than anything, you considered.  
“Get some sleep… we have a long drive ahead of us,” you muttered.  
Bucky smirked at that and pressed his forehead to yours. “I was well on my way to that.”

 

Two suitcases were tossed into your trunk as you slowly headed out of D.C. and headed for Brooklyn, New York. Bucky pushed different buttons on the radio, not having had many opportunities to be in your car. He couldn’t find any stations that played the music he was used to growing up. There was a station that played jazz, but only during the night. Instead, you used an aux cable to your iPod and played some swing. Bucky was intrigued, even if he had seen you do this before at home with a docking station.

“So you can play whatever you want if you just hook it up?”  
“Yeah. I have a few mix CDs that I pop in every now and again, but usually I just listen to the radio.”  
“Mix CDs?”  
“Okay, you had records when you were in your own time. Records evolved into cassettes, which are kind of music’s equivalent to film reels. Those evolved into CDs, which are digital and use lasers and reading systems. You can burn a CD and put select tracks on there. If you had the tech, you could do the same with cassettes and make mix tapes, but it’s easier with CDs. Of course, some people collect vintage cassettes and people are always buying vinyl records. My dad still has his old turn table at home.” You smiled. “There’s Record Store Day where you can buy discount vinyl records, too. I’ll take you to one some time.”

Bucky nodded at that and pulled a knee up to his chest. There was so much driving to do and so little time. He wanted to be in New York now, showing you the sights now, finding out more about his past… now. You had told him that perhaps he wouldn’t be able to know where everything was. Things were torn down and rebuilt, non-existent, dangerous, or lacking the same attitudes of times when he was in the right era.  
In your own mind, you knew you would be safe if Bucky was around you. Still, you worried for both your safeties. Remembering your promise to him, you wouldn’t put your life ahead of his. Even if there was danger, there was no running away. You were going to be by his side through thick and thin.

 

Your arrival in the Brooklyn area wasn’t as bad as you expected. Traffic was fine and the hotel you decided to make main base for ten days had free parking. Right next to the Brighton beaches too. Though Bucky couldn’t fully enjoy them without everyone noticing his arm, if he wanted to go on his own anywhere at all, you had somewhere to stay, just like with the Smithsonian back home.

Bucky stared out the window while you checked the room. It didn’t smell bad, the sheets were clean, the shower was clean, and there were small tea bags on the vanity desk. 

Quietly, after putting the suitcases in the corner, you walked behind Bucky and wrapped your arms around his middle  
“Hey…” His hands found yours. “We’re actually here, Buck. What do you want to do?”  
“Just… how about we stay in for the night? You’re tired from driving and we need to get a plan going of where to go and what to do.”  
“Okay. We can order room service for the night if you want?”  
“Yeah… yeah, that sounds good…”

The two of you ordered some sandwiches and opened up a few drinks that you had personally packed. Bucky couldn’t drink (he actually could, but said there was no point if he didn’t feel a bit fuzzy afterward), but that didn’t stop you from enjoying some nice wine as well as Bucky’s portion after saying the taste wasn’t to his liking. Then a couple more glasses when you realized that there was only that much left in the bottle. It wasn’t fair that Bucky watched you drink and couldn’t imbibe himself, right? You weren’t going to be selfish, were you?

Your drunk self wasn’t loud as much as it was very cuddly, smiley and goofy. Apparently your past boyfriends found it cute, Bucky being no exception. 

“Your name rhymes with fuck,” you whispered as Bucky put the empty tray outside. “Fucky sounds funny, so just shortening it to Buck rhymes it. James rhymes with a lot, too.”  
“Oh, is that a fact?” Bucky asked, walking back to you. He had a smile on that was ever so patient of your current condition. At the same time he was amused. “And what does your name rhyme with?”  
You giggled and gave nonsensical rhymes so ridiculous it would give Walt Disney songwriters a run for their money.  
“Uh huh… honey, maybe you shouldn’t have had my wine. Or at least had it so fast.”  
“I’m not drunk. Just happy. I love you. I love you so much.” Bucky sat down next to you on the bed and leaned against its frame. You took that as an invitation to hug his middle. “Do you love me?”  
He gently played with your hair. “I can’t tell you unless you’re sober and can remember it.”  
“I can so remember everything we’re saying tonight, James. What are you, scared? Scared that I love you or something?” you murmured, wanting very much to take a nap. Alcohol did that to you as well, which is why you sometimes took a nightcap after long hospital shifts. It had been a long time since that happened. “’Cause that’s just stupid…” You didn’t notice Bucky going quiet. That was great for your upcoming sleep, so you took your out and fell asleep against your boyfriend’s chest.

Gently moving you so that you were horizontal, Bucky took off your shoes, your glasses, your watch and anything else that would lead to an uncomfortable sleep before stripping himself. 

Maybe he was scared. It took you being drunk to tell him that. Normally you were fine with it, not being told that you were loved. Perhaps in reality you weren’t. But he wasn’t ready for it. That would make this all real. His relationship, what was at stake if he lost you, and the burden of happy memories. But not saying it wouldn’t lessen the hypothetical pain. Not saying that he loved you wouldn’t make his emotions more or less true. 

Ignoring your sleepy murmurs, Bucky maneuvered you just so to get you under the covers. Morning would come with a hangover for you. He didn’t want to explore New York alone while you recovered, but he didn’t want to waste time. 

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing your exposed cheek. “So… yeah… there you go.”

Maybe an afternoon planning things out – quietly – wasn’t so bad.


	8. Oceans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after the whole fallout with SHIELD/HYDRA, you and your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky aka The Winter Soldier aka The Other Man Out Of Time, had a lot of reacquainting to do. You had to learn how to deal with someone like Bucky while Bucky not only had to relearn how to be a boyfriend, but also how to deal with regaining his memories.  
> But he had you. And that was all he was in need of right now.
> 
> Post-You And Mr. Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for these long waits, guys. I'll try to punch out more chapters soon. I only have one more of these chapters in reserve.

There was nothing to do but wait for your hangover to pass. Bucky let you sleep in and you took a cold shower as soon as you woke up. He was busy pouring over maps and fiddling with the GPS capabilities on your phone to try and find old buildings from his adolescence, so your recovery period wasn’t seen as wasted time. Though the two of you didn’t say anything, you both regarded it the same.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have drunk so much. We could be out the door.”  
“It’s fine, honey. We said we needed a plan anyway. Remember much from last night?” he asked wryly.  
“Oh yeah, everything. Blank out drunk isn’t all drunk. Was I mean? I didn’t think I was too nice at the end there.”  
“No no, nothing like that. Just honest. I respect that.”  
“I still feel bad. But the wine’s gone so we’re even again.” You came up behind him and nipped his ear. “Having fun with my phone?”  
“Bite me like that again and I’ll be having fun with you… yeah, got a few addresses down. I figure if we hit at least two a day it’ll all be worth it.”  
“I’m ready to go when you are. We can grab some bagels downstairs and find lunch on the street.”

Bucky nodded and the two of you got into some fresh clothes, locked the room, and headed down to the measly continental breakfast the hotel had laid out. Bagels, semi-fresh fruit, juice, a coffee maker with the instructions that prohibited its use, and muffins. Nice. You both took a bit of everything and grabbed some bagels for the road.

 

“Honey?” Bucky asked, offering his arm to you.   
You took it happily before nudging him. “Yeah, baby, what is it?”  
“You really aren’t upset that you had to come out all this way, right? Driving me, I mean.”  
“Not really. See, I always prefer a day I can sleep in and do nothing, but you’re more important than that. So whatever is going to make you happy, that’s what I’m going to do.”

Bucky needed reassurance. It was odd to think that someone that used to be the Winter Soldier – and deep down you knew he was a cocky son of a bitch back in the day, pre-war, pre-everything – needed something like that, but he did. To you, it meant he was finding his humanity again. Everyone you knew needed some kind of boost now and again. Your classmates needed it when thinking they were going to fail. 

Your mother needed it when her diagnosis looked bleak. You needed it when your long-term boyfriend dumped you and made you feel worthless. Your patients always needed it. Bucky was no exception.  
The two of you spent the whole day at the docks, going under the pier, gazing at the wooden beams supporting massive structures. The boats there seemed older than Bucky by rust alone. You kept glancing at him, trying to figure out if he was recalling anything. He never seemed to pause and he didn’t mention anything to you about it so you figure there was nothing. 

Later that night, after a lunch and dinner of street food, you and Bucky stood on the beaches within eye sight of the hotel. The lights of the buildings were evident, yet the dim glow and lack of people around gave the moment a special intimacy that you couldn’t find in D.C. The romance of the sea under the moonlight, the sound of the waves and the overpowering smell of salt water made you think that you were farther away than New York. You never did get to travel much. Bucky did, but did assassination missions really count? You doubted it. He never had the freedom to do that. He couldn’t even take off his shirt and enjoy the water…

You turned your head and felt your heart jump into your throat.   
Bucky was halfway into the Atlantic, shirt folded neatly on his shoes. Even his metal arm caught a glint of moonlight. 

“James!” you hissed. “What are you doing? There could be people around!”

He didn’t say anything to you before disappearing under the water. You weren’t the strongest swimmer but forwent any complaining before putting down your things next to Bucky’s, your shoes, your shorts, your shirt, and went after him. He could get caught! Who knew if HYDRA had bases here?!

You were waist deep before Bucky breached right beside you.

“James, what are you trying to do? Get yourself caught?” you whispered furiously, brushing his hair back so his eyes could meet yours. “What were you thinking?”

There was a lengthy, empty space of silence before he spoke.

“I haven’t eaten real food in more than seventy years. I haven’t been able to feel the wind hit my bare chest in more than seventy years. I haven’t swam in this ocean in more than seventy years. This ocean… the smell… it hit me and I remembered throwing rocks here and building castles. We’d poke at the foam with sticks and look out and think of something more than what we were… if someone in Europe or Africa were looking out into the sea and wondering the same sorts of things… that’s what I was thinking.”

That gave you pause. The tide slowly faded in and out. Your hair fell into your eyes and stuck onto your head from salty sea water when you brushed it back. Warm water lapped around your thighs and your upper half shivered. Again you were reminded of how one-track your mind was and how little sovereignty Bucky had over the better part of this century. Such a simple pleasure in the dead of night and you were giving him hell over it.

But he had a memory… a memory of maybe childhood. That was good.  
You were about to hug him as an apology, but that hug was more for you, wasn’t it? For Bucky to forgive you for your outburst. He didn’t need reassurance at the moment; you did. 

You were at once very aware of how little clothing you had on and quickly marched to shore and threw your clothes back on. Bucky quietly filed in after you, tossing his hoodie on and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t going to see you tear up from guilt and misplaced worry. 

Back in the hotel room, the two of you showered separately and dressed in silence. Bucky scribbled in his notebook about what he remembered while you dried your hair. Occupying your mind was ways to apologize for treating him like a child. 

When you turned the blow dryer off, you watched Bucky rise out of the bed in the mirror. He dropped behind you and placed a tender kiss on your shoulder.  
“I’m not mad, you know, about tonight.”  
“You’re not? You’re not upset? You should be.” You turned around on your small perch and tucked your legs to your chest. “I’m treating you like a baby. You know the risks, better than I do.”  
“It’s coming from a good place. You have a big heart, honey.”  
“You got a memory back. I tried to interrupt it. I am very sorry, Bucky.”  
“I… I don’t think I heard you, if I’m being honest. I heard an echo and it sort of got filtered out.” Bucky’s eyebrows knitted together, trying to exactly recall what happened. “Next thing I knew you were in the water right there, asking me… demanding to know what I was thinking. I did get carried away, I guess.”  
“No, no, you didn’t. I think I would have done the same thing if I were you. If the ocean was a memory key for me.”  
Bucky pressed his forehead to yours. “I know you’re in my corner. I told Steve this once and he told me the same. I’m with you ‘til the end of the line. And I know you feel the same.”  
You kissed him for that. Several times. “I’d find you beyond that line. You’d better believe that.”  
“I know, honey.”

Sleep came easier than you thought it would when you were taking your shower. Who knew where tomorrow would lead?


	9. The Apartments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after the whole fallout with SHIELD/HYDRA, you and your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky aka The Winter Soldier aka The Other Man Out Of Time, had a lot of reacquainting to do. You had to learn how to deal with someone like Bucky while Bucky not only had to relearn how to be a boyfriend, but also how to deal with regaining his memories.  
> But he had you. And that was all he was in need of right now.
> 
> Post-You And Mr. Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a new one. Expect some drama next chapter. 
> 
> Thanks to all my readers and commenters!

No matter where you went, you always had a tiny sewing case with you. It was something that you picked up from your mother. If clothes ripped or seams popped, then a repair could get made. It was a useless skill in most aspects, but Bucky sat on the bed next and watched you diligently as you patched up his shoulder seam. He was actually holding you when you had started, but the threat of a needle in his hand gave you a few inches of space. He was being quite affectionate that morning. Must have been your pheromones or something. But he was often like that, divvying up how much he wanted physicality with you. 

“I could teach you,” you offered, wincing as you poked yourself. “It’s not hard… and you would be unable to poke yourself, at least in your left hand.”  
“But you’re so good at it,” he replied. With a knot tied off and a few snips, Bucky’s black pullover was good as new. “Thanks, honey.”  
“No problem. Now what’s the plan for today?”  
“That would be heading into the older districts... I want to see if my apartment is still around. I wouldn’t be able to go inside it, but maybe just looking at it would do something. Then I want to spend some more time on the beaches or docks.”  
“Sounds fine.”  
“And maybe… we could have a long night in bed together when we get back?” he offered, looking up at you.   
You shrugged and nodded. “That sounds like a really, really good idea. These walls don’t seem very thick, though. I imagine we’d probably have to be pretty quiet about it.”  
“Or we could get a noise complaint.” He had that wicked glint in his eyes again. Hell, he probably wanted you right there and then.   
You laughed at that and covered Bucky’s face with kisses. “You are incorrigible. You made me use the word incorrigible. But we came to New York to find your memories and you fucking me every minute you get the chance won’t help that… not that I don’t like it, mind you. We just have a lot of important stuff to do.”  
Bucky paused. “You’re important.”  
“Sweetheart, sex is just one way to satisfy me. Seeing you happy satisfies me, too, and I think one way to satisfy you is you getting outside and looking around.”

You really did care about him. And he really did love you. It was that little back-and-forth, more than all the other conversations the two of you ever had, just of how nonchalantly you said it and how determined you were to help him.

Tonight.  
He would say it tonight. He would say that he loved you.

You held Bucky’s hand gently as he stared up at a ratty apartment on the south side of Brooklyn. It didn’t look like it had been updated since the forties, that was for sure, but the neighborhood was pleasant enough. Kids were playing around the streets and you could hear shouts of joy from a basketball game a block down. 

“I don’t think whoever owns your place will let you in,” you whispered. “Maybe just walking around will help?”  
Bucky stayed silent and looked at the stairs. “I think Steve used to live around here. I remember… um…” He licked his lips and furrowed his brow, as was common when he was deep in thought. “The day when the carriers went down, I remembered when his mom died. After the funeral… Steve skipped out and went home. I told him he could live with us, but he said no.”  
You were there for moral support, so you gave him a shoulder to lean on while you rubbed his arm.   
“It was never clean around here growing up. There was always something lying around, trash piles, stray dogs and cats. So this is nice.”

To you, it looked like cities often did. Outside of burned buildings and ramshackle housing, cities always seemed a bit rundown outside of the financial districts. The suburbs, like the ones you grew up in, were similar. It was peaceful, yet still looked rundown in places. 

Despite it all, you missed it. While Bucky struggled to gain back memories, wandering around aimlessly with you at his side, you reveled in your own.

You didn’t grow up in a small town where everyone knew everyone else’s business. There were enough people to where you had privacy, but still smiled and engaged in small talk with neighbors. There wasn’t heavy racism in your area – rather, it was a healthy, diverse suburb, which according to your mother, was for the best. She didn’t want to be around the heavily bigoted neighborhoods of her youth and certainly didn’t want the same for you and your siblings. Your father felt the same way.

There was a lot of farmland where you started out, and it was common to see fenced-in horses on the drive home from school or work. You had a large graduating class in high school of about four hundred and there were many shops to visit. The city was close enough to where you didn’t have to drive long to see a baseball game or a concert, but everything was far enough away to where you had to have a car to get around.

What you liked about living in the city was that you didn’t need a car to go everywhere. Public transportation existed at functional enough levels to where your car sometimes didn’t get used for a week. With city gas prices, you weren’t complaining. 

Still, the quiet levels of the suburbs and the spotting of medical institutions meant that a move out of D.C. and into a more peaceful area would be good for Bucky. Maybe Maine. It might be cold in Maine, but it was something healthy for your boyfriend. He deserved it.


	10. Mugged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after the whole fallout with SHIELD/HYDRA, you and your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky aka The Winter Soldier aka The Other Man Out Of Time, had a lot of reacquainting to do. You had to learn how to deal with someone like Bucky while Bucky not only had to relearn how to be a boyfriend, but also how to deal with regaining his memories.  
> But he had you. And that was all he was in need of right now.
> 
> Post-You And Mr. Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used to have a bunch of you guys comment on my Bucky stuff and now no one is. I mean, I'm still going to write and post chapters, but I hope that I didn't press a wrong button and now you guys can't.

It was nightfall by the time Bucky suggested that going back to the hotel might be a good idea. 

A short bus ride left you a few blocks from your destination. The street didn’t have many lights and you felt a shiver run down your spine. Granted, with Bucky at your side there wasn’t much to fear, but you always felt a bit paranoid when it came to nighttime anywhere. There were too many patients that came into your hospital back home with injuries from a mugging. Stab wounds, badly bruised faces and even a gunshot wound at times. All it meant was that you gladly took a night shift if it meant going home in the daylight. 

You gripped Bucky’s arm and whispered for him to keep an eye out.  
“Honey, there’s nothing to be scared of. I’ll protect y-”  
“Wallet. Now.”  
You heard a gun click and point at the small of your back.  
“Give him your purse, bitch,” another man, different from the one behind you, snapped.  
Just two of them, Bucky thought to himself, looking down at you before taking in the statures and the challenges of what could come in the next ten seconds. Rage filled his eyes as he saw the man’s finger move to the trigger, the gun’s barrel pressing harder into your back.  
“I said give me your fucking wallet!” the man growled. “I’ll fucking kill you, both of you.”

Bucky remembered back in the bank, of how he failed to protect you. There was so much pain in your eyes that day and he was so useless.  
Seeing you shake like a leaf, feeling your pulse race even through both of your coats, was enough to bring the Winter Soldier out of him. 

He lost anger. He lost fear. 

There were only cold calculations.

“Get your purse, give him your wallet. I don’t have one,” Bucky said evenly, showing his empty pockets to prove that he wasn’t worth a mugging.  
You looked over at him, disbelief that he wasn’t going to do anything showing clearly in your eyes, before quietly zipping open your purse pocket. 

As soon as one of the men, burlier than the other but shorter than you, made a grab for your purse, Bucky clicked.

The sudden movement of Bucky stalled the short man, only temporarily, but the focus was instead on the man with the gun. He didn’t see a weapon on the short man. This one was providing the biggest threat to your life at the present.

“Oh shi-”  
The man with the gun spluttered as Bucky disarmed him with a wrist break and buried his metal hand into his cheek. Any howl of pain from the wrist was silenced. You stared at the unconscious man in front of you before letting out a small gasp from the short man giving you a swift jab to the side to release your grip from your small handbag’s strap. A half call for help escaped you before you fell against the brick face of the nearest building to catch your breath.

The short man reacted faster than Bucky had planned, thinking that he would go to his accomplice, whose face was already starting to swell from the Winter Soldier’s fist, and help him up. Rather, with your purse in hand, he started booking it down the street. 

There was no way that his gait would beat Bucky’s, but he probably knew Brooklyn’s streets better. Bucky had to act fast. He had hurt you. This one would die.

Grabbing the other man’s gun, Bucky followed him down the street and into an alleyway. The short man was burly, yes, but some of that girth was fat. Short legs and not being particularly in shape made him that much easier to catch up to. 

Hitting a chain link fence roughly fifteen feet high, the short man let out a curse at the sight of Bucky’s silhouette at the far end of the alleyway. There wasn’t enough artificial light or even moonlight to make out his face, but enough for a glint to appear from his hand.

“Who the fuck are you, man?”  
Knowing the purse would only slow him down or it being what Bucky was after, he threw the handbag into the corner and started making his way up the fence. From fear and inexperience of needing to make a hasty escape (usually his buddy would have dissuaded any sort of retribution with the gun, especially from out of towners), he was only a few feet up the fence when Bucky’s metal arm grabbed the back of his shirt and threw him down.  
“Come on, man, I didn’t hurt her,” he started, coming close to begging. “The purse is over there, just bring it back to her. You probably killed Ty, so let me go, huh?”  
“You hurt her… I ought to kill you for that,” Bucky said with no hint of emotion. His calmness put off the man, enough to make him whimper when he was picked up by the front of his shirt.  
“Don’t kill me, man… I have a family!”  
“I’m not going to kill them.”  
“D-d-don’t kill me, please!”  
Rolling his eyes, Bucky set the men back on the ground, on his feet. Killing him wouldn’t be vengeance. You were still alive. “Fine. Tell you what – I’ll keep you able to walk.”  
The relief that entered the man’s face left as quickly as it appeared. “Wh-what?”

There was a satisfying crunch as one punch broke the man’s nose. Another left him without a back tooth. A hit to the midsection brought him to his knees. A blow to the back brought him flush with the ground. One penultimate hit, a kick, to his ribs, brought him to tears. 

“Who… are you?” asked the man, voice warbling in pain when Bucky yanked his collar up.  
“Don’t worry about it.”

A final punch in the face knocked the man out cold. Carelessly, Bucky released his shirt and let his head bounce on the concrete floor of the dark alley. No windows were lit, no curtains drawn. Not even a head sticking out to investigate the ruckus. 

Bucky took several deep breaths before grabbing your purse and silently stalking back to you. There was a bit of blood on his pants from what happened, but he didn’t care about that. 

Bucky didn’t feel elated with what happened. He wasn’t exactly worried about your safety, seeing as he left you alone on a block where the both of you were about to be mugged. It was more the principle of the thing, getting your handbag back than defending you. Your honor maybe. A dull sense of guilt would hit him later that week when he saw you rubbing your side and perking up when his body was close again, but not anything right now, even when you hugged him and asked after his wellbeing. He didn’t respond when you said you used a payphone to call an ambulance for the man with a gun, still laying near the curb with a swollen cheekbone. He, however, wordlessly followed you back to the hotel at your suggestion you leave the street before the cops show and start asking questions.


	11. Steam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after the whole fallout with SHIELD/HYDRA, you and your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky aka The Winter Soldier aka The Other Man Out Of Time, had a lot of reacquainting to do. You had to learn how to deal with someone like Bucky while Bucky not only had to relearn how to be a boyfriend, but also how to deal with regaining his memories.  
> But he had you. And that was all he was in need of right now.
> 
> Post-You And Mr. Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know, I just feel really proud of this chapter. I don't know.
> 
> Thanks for reading, everyone. =D

Ignoring the stares of the concierge, you headed to the hotel elevator. You couldn’t necessarily blame her for giving that expression. After all, the both of you looked just awful, you were scared stiff with wide eyes while Bucky had some blood on him and appeared to be robotic. 

Bucky, though defending your honor and getting a very valuable purse back – at least valuable contents – he happened to leave you alone at the site of a potential mugging. The Winter Soldier had a one-track mind, but Bucky didn’t. You slowly started to add things up during the ride up to your room, Bucky’s stare boring holes into the small button panel in front of him.

He was back to being a bodyguard instead of a boyfriend. Checking corners, keeping you close to him, not smiling. It made you worrisome.

“I can wash your pants in the sink,” you said when your keycard unlocked the door. Bucky ghosted in behind you. “Cold water will get the blood out just fine. It looks like it’s just splatters and nothing more.”  
Giving him a once over, you moved to thoroughly inspect him, starting with his hands.  
“It looks like you kept to the metal hand, so there aren’t any cuts from faces. You can get a nasty infection that way. Did you get hit?” You got a head shake in response. “Are you sure I don’t have to worry about anything?” A nod instead. “Regardless, a good soak in the tub will make you feel better. Can you fill it up for me, please?” 

It perturbed you that Bucky hadn’t said anything to you since the failed mugging. You were still trying to calm your heart down and now you had to contend with Bucky being unresponsive. It was like he was the Winter Soldier again, the killing machine. You shuddered. He couldn’t take a step back and revert. He had made so much progress!

Bucky was following your instructions, yes, but… well, you didn’t quite know how to describe it. He wouldn’t move until you gave him an order, wouldn’t respond to any niceties and was generally looking like he did when you first met him. It seemed so long ago but it hadn’t even been a year. You were well versed in how to handle Bucky when he was that way. It wasn’t something you wanted to do – to go back to being the doctor for the Winter Soldier.

The tub was full, yet Bucky hadn’t got into it or made a move to strip. 

“Sweetheart, I need you to get out of your clothes so I can clean some blood off while you bathe,” you said lightly. Bucky gazed at you for a short second before doing what you had asked.  
You washed in the sink while Bucky sat in the tub and stared at the tiled wall. 

At this rate the two of you would never be in bed. After getting the blood out of the clothes (having had so much practice with your own clothes from periods and what not) and placing them on the towel rack to dry, you put down a folded towel for a knee cushion, unhooked the shower head and proceeded to wet Bucky’s head.

You’d just give him a bath yourself.

“You know, I’ve never given anyone a bath before,” you mused quietly, bringing your voice down to an easygoing, comforting level. You only heard the soft hum of the light and drops of water falling back into the tub. “It’s true… at the hospital, usually the nurses do it. And I don’t have nieces or nephews I give baths to, or sons or daughters. So you’re the lucky first.”  
You gently massaged his scalp and lathered the shampoo – bamboo scented, weird but fine – up slowly. The heat from the bath and the steam still rising out of the tub made you feel warm, but your skin still pricked with goose bumps. Did Bucky not feel how hot the bath was?

“Thank you for saving me. No one’s ever done that for me. But I feel sort of terrible for it,” you admitted as you rinsed his head. Getting the wash cloth soapy, you sighed and sat on the edge of the tub. “I promised you that I would never put my life above yours. Your life is just as valuable as mine, you know. I’m grateful, but you should take some care with your own life. I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt. I love you too much for that to happen…”

Slowly you started washing Bucky’s back, moving in small circles. He bent forward ever so slightly. Maybe he was enjoying it. You weren’t sure. Actually, you considered the bath to be therapeutic for both you and him. A simple task for you to keep your mind busy and… well, you thought it to be comforting. Your mom always used to bathe you before you could do it yourself, at least in memory. There was something about the steam and the smell of a bath that caused memories to slowly seep from your subconscious. 

There was your mother, rubbing your back and humming a melody of a song you found solace in. The two of you would giggle together at a private joke maybe, or talk about what happened that day and what you learned. Maybe the ABCs or a times table. She used to dry your hair before you could do it yourself. Your bedroom was warm after that, back when you had very long hair, and you always had a long hug with her before you were settled into bed. 

Your washing slowed as you recalled the slightly peeling wallpaper near the ceiling of your old bathroom, the fuzzy toilet seat cover, the bounce of your mother’s hair, her eyes… so much like yours that sometimes it hurt your father to get a good look at you after she died. You couldn’t blame him. 

Bucky’s body shifting brought you back down to earth and you continued on with his arms and chest.  
You didn’t care if Bucky wasn’t paying attention. Maybe he was lost in his thoughts again, deaf to all outside influence. It was uncommon, yet it happened enough for you to know that Bucky was away from himself at the moment. Your talk might not be having an effect, yes, but it felt good for you to say it.

“Stand, please.”  
Bucky did as asked, not reacting as you scrubbed his long legs, his lower back, his torso, his ass, his inner thighs. You brushed his cock before cleaning that as well. It was impossible to miss the hitch of his breath, but Bucky didn’t make a move to comment on it further and neither did you.  
“I think we’re done… you can get out now, sweetheart.”

Going all the way, you even towel dried him. His attention was back on you, though not saying a word.  
You left the bathroom to get his clothes. You were surprised when he was following right behind you, not letting you out of his sight.

 

“If you’re going to air dry your hair or use a blow dryer, I don’t care, but I’m taking a quick shower,” you informed him. “I’ll be back in ten.”

Bucky tried to say something before you disappeared into the bathroom, but nothing came out. You were just being too nice again. It was taking him too long to shake the Winter Soldier persona that he had grown so accustomed to all these years. It was the first time he fell into it since the day he met you again. When he was homeless, he would have to do a lot to get by – things he wasn’t proud of. But he was making such progress! You were more than a good influence. You were a joy. And he had to tell you that. 

More than that, he had to tell you that he loved you!

Standing up, he bounded to the bathroom, opened the door and tore open the shower curtain. Every thought in his mind froze at the sight of you wringing out a washcloth.  
“May I… um… do you need something?” you asked, turning off the water. “Bucky, sweetheart?”  
“God... God, it can wait a little bit.” He ran his thumb across the curtain material. “Sorry, honey.”  
“No no, is it important?” You squeezed the excess water from your hair and reached for a towel. “I’m done?”  
He shook his head. “No it’s… I can wait a little longer. Dry you hair and stuff.” Bucky then released his hold on the shower curtain and plodded back to the hotel bed. 

While drying your hair, you kept looking into the mirror to see Bucky curled up on top of the covers, staring at the wall. What had been so important that he had to burst into the bathroom while you were showering? Another memory? A place in particular that he wanted to go see? You shrugged and brushed out your hair. Looks like you would have to go to him again.  
“Buck? James?” you whispered, sitting cross legged behind him. “Sweetheart, don’t close yourself off to me. We’re a team.” You gently rubbed his back, but he didn’t shift. “Was something wrong and you wanted to tell me about it? You don’t have to wait on that. I’m not going to put myself before you, remember? I love you.”  
“I love you, too,” he murmured back at you. 

It slipped out of his mouth before he realized it. 

Bucky sat up, heart pounding as he stared at the ground. In all his worrying about not being able to say it right, about you being threatened with a gun, of him not getting memories back fast enough for his liking, somehow saying he loved you fell by the wayside.

“I didn’t… that didn’t come out right,” he grunted, turning to look at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t say it rig-”

Oh, your eyes. They were sparkling and beautiful and full of love all for him. Your smile lit up the room, as dark as it was from the dead of night. 

“You love me?”  
Bucky matched your position and took your hands in his. “A long time ago… well, I guess not too long all things considered, I said that my hand – my metal arm – isn’t made for holding. You knew that I wasn’t going to be a regular boyfriend. You stuck by me anyway and you’re someone I can count on.” A big confession of love? Bucky felt like he could do it, make a meaningful one, but it was your presence that was throwing him off. His eyes flitted from yours to the curtains to a loose thread on the bedspread. “You make me smile when I don’t feel like it because I always feel good around you. Um… I trust you explicitly with my life… you take care of me and it makes me want to take care of you best I can. And honey,” he added with a smirk, “you are so sexy all the time!” He brought your hand to his lips and pressed several kisses into it. “I love you. I love you as much as anyone could love anything, past, present, future. You’re the last person I want to love like this because I don’t know if I could feel like this again.”  
“Oh, Bucky,” you cooed after a moment of comfortable silence. You bounced forward to hug him, laughing at an amused “hey!” from your boyfriend out of time. “You really are my champion. That was perfect and honest, just like you.”  
“Honey, I am nowhere near perf-”  
Even he blushed hard when you gave him a toe-curling kiss.  
“That wasn’t up for debate, sweetheart. Really, you have a sweet heart.”  
“Okay, maybe you’re right,” he chuckled, lifting you with ease onto his lap. 

That wasn’t so bad, Bucky mused as the two of you cuddled together after a very long day. A short discussion later led to the realization that going back to D.C. early would be an excellent idea. 

It was the small battles for him that made the difference in wondering whether or not the trip was worth it. He did remember some things from his past, his much younger days. And he was finally able to say that he loved you to your face. Oh, he knew that he would be saying that a lot more lately, saying it three more times before the two of you drifted off to sleep.


	12. Under the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after the whole fallout with SHIELD/HYDRA, you and your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky aka The Winter Soldier aka The Other Man Out Of Time, had a lot of reacquainting to do. You had to learn how to deal with someone like Bucky while Bucky not only had to relearn how to be a boyfriend, but also how to deal with regaining his memories.  
> But he had you. And that was all he was in need of right now.
> 
> Post-You And Mr. Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the penultimate chapter of this story!!! Don't worry, I have a new one cooking up. Will need to see Age of Ultron to give me a bit of help. But who cares about continuity errors! I HAVE A PLAN.
> 
> Sorry for the LONG delay between chapters. With my new 9-to-5 job, it's hard to find time in between working, sleeping, and other hobbies. I promise not to suck so much in the future.

Before leaving for home, indeed before getting out of bed, Bucky pulled you underneath him and made love to you, feeling a drought of any sort of physical affection of that nature. You responded back in kind, the experience being made more pleasurable by the laziness of it all. His lips dragged on yours with each kiss and you heard each satisfied grunt in your ear when he thrust forward. You came with a content sigh, staring at the ceiling as Bucky lay half on top of you after he finished. 

“Morning,” you whispered, brushing his hair back.  
“Mmmph,” came his reply.  
“You sure you want to go home?”  
“Very… I don’t want to be here anymore.”  
“Okay.” 

You hesitated. For a long time, you had to start thinking about getting employed again. When, where, at what… these were all very important. D.C., you were confident, was the least likely place you wanted to find new work. 

What job did you tell Bucky would be nice? A family practitioner? That sounded about right. Maybe just move out to Maine. You were used to New England weather and it wasn’t far away from New York or D.C. if Bucky changed his mind about poking his nose around either. All the same, you had to tell him.

“Bucky, I need to find a new job, so I’m thinking Maine would be a good idea. I’m sure at least one clinic somewhere needs a family doctor. I would make enough to support us both and it would be nice and quiet for us. I think that’s what you need… a bit of peace. We could live in a rural area so there won’t be a lot of people around. We could find you some hobbies and you could have a bit of privacy. Does that sound okay to you, baby?”  
“Fine,” he yawned. “Just fine… as long as we’re together, I don’t care where we move or what we end up doing with ourselves.” Bucky’s head tilted up to gaze at you and came back down to rest on your chest. “I just want to have you near me.”  
“Me too.” 

You honestly couldn’t imagine being apart from him for very long. Of course, there might come a day where Bucky would have to be the hero everyone needed, but maybe not quite the one they deserved, which would mean you would have to stay on the side lines. That suited you fine, but it still meant that you would always be worrying about your boyfriend. 

In your mind, that made a good relationship. Not the fact that the two of you preferred to be together rather than separated, but that you both were thinking about the wellbeing of the other and wanting what was best. For Bucky, you wanted him to have a bit of peace and quiet to combat years of the opposite. For you, Bucky wanted you to be happy, plain and simple. He was aware that he completely changed your life for better or for worse, so whatever made you happy, that was what he was going to put his energy toward. 

The two of you were a team, champion of the other.

 

On the car ride home, the two of you spent more time talking and picking the brain of the other. Bucky was still trying to get to know you better outside of your kindness and capability in seemingly everything. You had hard opinions about certain ideologies and was generally disgusted with the state of justice in the world. That was why, in your words, you were a doctor. You tried your best to treat everyone equally, even against empathy exhaustion that came with day after day of emotionally tiring trials. 

You were most interested about Bucky’s early life, especially concerning Steve Rogers before his serum treatment.

“Oh, he was always getting into fistfights. I had to break them up. Steve was, and kind of still is, I guess, terrible at picking his battles. I’m glad that he can start finishing them now, but back then it was a different story.”  
“So was your Steve sense always tingling when he was in danger?” you joked.  
Bucky chuckled at that. “Well, if it was too quiet for, like fifteen minutes, I would have to go Steve hunting for his scrawny ass in alleyways.”  
“Poor thing,” you cooed, moving to hold his hand. Bucky took it without thinking, quite rare considering it was his metal hand you were going for, and laced his fingers with yours.  
“I wouldn’t trade it for the world, our friendship. I mean… I hope that it’s fixable...”  
“It is. I know it is.”  
“And how exactly do you know that?”  
“For one thing, Steve knew you were brainwashed, so I don’t think he’s blaming you for anything. Second, it’s not like he had lasting damage. Third, you guys have this bond. I think it will manage through more than a pummeling.”  
“You think, honey?”  
“I know. Now find something you’ll enjoy on the radio, okay? We’re two hours out and I’ll need to pick up gas before that.”

Bucky found that he quite liked ska music and hip-hop, but wasn’t too big on folk or EDM. You liked just about everything, grooving along to whatever Bucky flipped to. That made him smile and soon just picked a random jazz station.

“I can’t believe this was controversial at one point in time,” you mused.  
“Yeah, this and swing was the devil’s music. Made people happy, so we couldn’t have that. Lots of colored musicians got people upset, I guess.”  
“Buck, we don’t really use that term anymore,” you said lightly. “Colored people is from a bygone era.”  
“What’s the preferred term?”  
“Depends on the race.”  
“Well, enlighten me then,” he said in all seriousness. There was a lot to catch up on and HYDRA wasn’t quite interested in people’s feelings.  
You gave a short lecture to the best of your ability on race relations in the United States and all manner of slurs for people in all walks of life in between. Your area of expertise in history wasn’t what people were derogatorily called in what year, so you covered your bases. 

The only pause in your conversation came when you pulled over to stretch your legs, Bucky following suit. After twenty minutes and a small lunch, it was back on the road and back to your history lessons.

“Damn…” Bucky’s conversations with you, at least about the past, always illuminated just how much he missed with great strides happening in a small space of time. “Well… at least people actually care about feelings now.”  
“I like to think we’re getting there as a society,” you shrugged. “Slowly but surely. You’ll get there, too, sweetie. Anyone can change if they want to and make a concentrated effort. It’s… well, it takes introspection and self-examination, but most of all it takes empathy. Bigots don’t care to do that and don’t have feelings to spare. You’re not like that, I don’t think. You want to be better and you make that effort.”  
“Thanks.”  
“Just telling what I feel is the truth.”

Bucky continued to ask you questions about society’s strides until your gas tank beckoned you to a service station. 

The two of you sat under a nearby tree while minor maintenance was done to your trusty car. The sun was nearly on the horizon, casting the early evening sky into a brilliant display of pastels. Pink, white, purple, orange all imperfectly washed together. You missed seeing these kinds of skies when you lived in the suburbs. It was difficult to see anything in the city, especially night stars. While passing through states, everything cleared up.  
“Let’s find a nice place to pull over and stargaze before we go back home,” you suggested, kissing Bucky’s cheek. “It’ll be nighttime either way.”  
“Do you… do you like stargazing?” he asked, looking down at you snuggled into his side.  
“I haven’t done it for a while. I thought it would bring back memories… me and my dad used to sit on the roof of our house with a blanket and just look up at the sky for hours on Friday nights if it was clear.”  
“Then I would love to stargaze with you, honey.”  
Bucky’s chest swelled at the sight of your smile with dimples. His memories of being under stars included a couple times with old girlfriends or being in war. Not quite what he’d like to bring up with you. Tonight he would make new memories, happy memories.

The two of you picked up some dinner at a greasy spoon diner and later pulled over on a dirty stretch of country highway. Once in a while, a car would zoom by, but no one paid your tiny Ford Fusion any mind.  
Laying on the trunk of the car, you and Bucky leaned back and gazed at the array of tiny crystals that hung up in the infinite blackness of space. You focused in on the dim ones, knowing that to even show meant that they must be huge and bright in their own galaxy. 

There was life on other planets, the New York attack being proof, even if a wormhole to other dimensions was the cause for the arrival. You focused on what it would be like to travel through space like on sci-fi shows. Early in your life you thought about how it would be to actually become a member of the U.S.S. Enterprise, going where no one has gone before. You gave up life as an astronaut when you changed to wanting to be a figure skater, to a filmmaker, until you finally found your calling as a doctor.

Still though, space fascinated you. 

“Wow,” you heard Bucky breathe to your left.  
“The rural areas have at least one thing right. It’s so brilliant…”  
“If Maine has a view like this, I’m sold.”  
“Bucky, do you know how to drive?” you asked abruptly.  
“I can. Why?”  
“I just reminded myself that if I’m out of commission, I have to teach you how to do things in my stead. You can work a smartphone and drive. Getting you a driver’s license is out of the question because you obviously don’t have a birth certificate, so we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Um… you’ll have to learn how to pay bills online and do taxes online too… I’ll make a list when we get home.”  
“Thanks, baby.” Bucky leaned over to kiss your cheek and bring you closer to his core.  
“James,” you cooed. 

The two of you arrived at the D.C. apartment around eleven, too tired to do anything else except take off shoes, bras and belts and pass out on the bed.

Your lease for your apartment was done in a couple months. For the first time in years, you would not be renewing.

The next chapter of your life, with Bucky Barnes in tow, was set to begin.


	13. Cleaned Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after the whole fallout with SHIELD/HYDRA, you and your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky aka The Winter Soldier aka The Other Man Out Of Time, had a lot of reacquainting to do. You had to learn how to deal with someone like Bucky while Bucky not only had to relearn how to be a boyfriend, but also how to deal with regaining his memories.  
> But he had you. And that was all he was in need of right now.
> 
> Post-You And Mr. Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter left.

Before you lease was out, you took to teaching Bucky the ins and outs of your money, where it was, out to use it, and what to do in case of an emergency. How to pay bills, pay taxes, work with banks and credit cards, speak with financiers, and how to ask for extensions on paying back credit card balances. What you already taught him was repeated again.  
“See, they’re human on the other line and will help you if you calmly tell them the issue. Yelling only makes things worse. One of my exes was a complete jackass with customer service, so that’s pretty much why we broke up,” you explained, spreading out credit card statements on your table.  
“What do you mean when you say you’ll be out of commission?” Bucky asked, gazing over at you.  
“Oh… sickness, mostly. I’ve made it to thirty without having too much trouble. You’re pretty much that old, right?”  
“Let’s see… my death date has me at twenty-seven,” Bucky mused. “And the collective time I was the Winter Soldier probably sets me at thirty-two, thirty-three?”  
“Then it is definitely best you learn all of this stuff now,” you reasoned.  
Bucky, to his credit, picked up on everything rather quickly, especially the tech curve. The following month, he even managed to pay your bills and rent (with you looking over his shoulder, of course). You were filled with pride, even for something as arguably average as paying bills.  
The final month before moving day, set for August 23rd, was coming up fast.

 

“Let’s see,” you hummed, playing with your hair. “I have a moving truck stopping by next week. They’ll drive ahead of us and store our stuff in a storage locker until we buy a house. I put six months’ down payment on it and should be able to get my deposit back when I find a job.” Bucky and you were studying copious notes of check lists. 

You had cancelled your cable, which turned into a shouting match because it just wasn’t that simple with your cable provider. It took three calls until you were finally able to cancel your service. Your internet would be gone by moving day. You informed everyone you could think of with address forwarding, the remaining mail being collected by Ms. Cho, who would then send you what would be showing up in your mailbox.  
She, bless her soul, was making the both of you tea and offering advice here and there.

“My great-granddaughter is brilliant with medicine,” she bragged, Bucky looking up at her. “You should meet her. I’m sure you could help her! She has a lab in Seoul and New York. Who wants to live in Maine anyway?”  
“It’s nice and quiet over there. Just what I need. Too much evil happening in cities,” you muttered. Ms. Cho mentioned her relation a few more times, but you weren’t paying attention. Harriet or Helen or something… you didn’t find it to be of great importance.  
“Have you packed suitcases?” Ms. Cho asked, sitting down. “Your food?”  
“Oh, our food!” you cringed. “We can’t just take all of it! Damn… I suppose we could donate it…”  
“That’s a nice idea,” Bucky agreed, drumming his fingers on the table.

Ms. Cho didn’t seem to care about Bucky’s arm, why it was metal or why she hadn’t noticed it up until a few days ago. She assumed what everyone else did when they saw a glimpse of it in the sunlight: war wound.

“I hope you aren’t staying in a flea ridden motel,” the old woman muttered. “I can put you in a nice hotel for a few days. I can’t imagine it will take long for someone to take you on. You’re so bright!”  
You smiled at that. “Thanks… but we’ll be fine. We’ll vet the room and everything.”  
“Call me when you’re settled then…”

Ms. Cho went to pour another cup of tea out for the three of you, hoping the best for you and your handsome boyfriend. After all, she had grown very accustomed to you in these past few years. Her next neighbor might not be as sweet as you were.

*********

At last it was moving day.

You had a small group of well-wishers at your nearly empty apartment, giving you little trinkets and keepsakes. Movers were flitting in every now and again with boxes, suitcases, bedframes, mattresses, furniture and more boxes, each one marked with care. 

When the guests left, Bucky came out of his hiding place in the guest bedroom (your office, now completely bare) and found you staring into space in the middle of the sitting room. You had been so quiet these past few days, going to bed late and getting up early. How were you going to make the drive to Maine?

“Honey?” Bucky whispered, walking up to you. You started before turning, making Bucky’s breath catch in his throat.  
Your eyes were shiny with tears threatening to start pouring.  
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He swiftly came to give you a hug and you hung limply from his arms.  
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…”  
“But… why would you think that?”  
“I keep dragging you away from places! You were in New York with memories and I got in trouble and dragged you away.” You were sniffling in earnest now. “Now I’m taking you away from D.C. and you should try to find Steve before hours and miles come between you… and I don’t even have a fucking job lined up and I’m moving northeast to the middle of nowhere! I’m so scared!”  
“Come on… don’t be blaming yourself for anything.” Bucky kissed your head. “I want to go. I don’t want to see Steve right now, I’m not ready. Someday I will be, but not now. Besides, I like being with you. I want to be away from it all for a little bit. Maybe longer than a little bit…” He put your jaw in his hands and tilted your face up to meet his. “Honey, I’ve lived such a noisy life. I need peace. I’m going to follow you anywhere. You can depend upon that.”  
“Oh… Bucky,” you chuckled, wiping your eyes. “Man… I’ll need a nap before I make that drive…”  
“You’re not getting one unless you want me to drive,” Bucky replied, squeezing your hand.  
“Jesus, not yet… I’ll get some coffee somewhere before I leave. Just wait for me on the street…”

 

So there Bucky found himself, waiting next to your little Ford Fusion on the side of the street, looking to and fro for some sign of your return. With Starbucks nearly everywhere, you couldn’t have been more than five minutes, ten tops. 

Dogs were being walked, a guy made a sudden stop in his walking route before running in the other direction, kids were drawing on the sides of brick walls, police sirens could be heard in the distance… city life. Bucky would miss it and flick it off while you sped off into the sunset.

Time alone with no one around but him and you. The thought made him smirk. Maybe you could find a nice farmhouse on a lone country road. There’d be no one around for miles. He could make you scream all night and not get a noise complaint. 

He had felt guilty about having the landlord warn you about late night noise, but never too bad.

Speaking of guilt, what did you say? You felt guilty about him having to leave New York early? Well… that really couldn’t be helped. Even if it wasn’t a plentiful amount, he did get a few memories back. Still, it did perturb him why more weren’t. Why couldn't he get more? Another one with Steve would be a great asset. Steve Rogers, his supposed best friend. He felt like a shit one right now.

As Steve came clearer into his mind, he saw you rounding the far corner of the block with a small bag, two drinks and a set of car keys in hand. That, your simple presence in his life, made him smile. Oh, he was unequivocally yours. 

 

“Bucky?” 

That quiet, timid, unsure and hopeful voice that he heard in some nightmares. It was right behind him. Bucky whipped his head around to see none other than Steve Rogers standing three feet from him, cell phone held in a very tight grip in his right hand. He looked... relieved. That was the opposite feeling Bucky had, which was nothing less than pure dread. The last time they had met, he had tried to kill Steve, laying him up in the hospital for days.

“St-Steve.”

Bucky knew you were right behind him and he was hoping that you would end this conversation before it began in earnest. He wasn’t ready for apologies. It was too much, especially the thought that Steve wouldn’t forgive him for all of his past sins. There was too much at stake. Bucky began feeling true anxiety as Steve worked up his next words.

“I got a message from Sam, a friend, saying he thought he saw you...”  
“Well… he saw me. And, uh, you saw me. Actually, I was kind of in the middle of something…”  
“What?”  
“Leaving.”  
“You can't leave.” Steve gave him half a smile. “I just got here!”  
“I didn't know you were _going_ to be here,” Bucky replied stiffly.  
“I didn’t either until about two minutes ago. Have you been keeping well? Got a home?” Steve asked, gesturing to his old friend to give him more than a few short responses.  
“Not… technically anymore.” To Bucky, that was as far into the truth as he wanted to go. Running away to Maine with his girlfriend wasn’t quite what he was wanting to talk about at the moment.

For Steve, it sounded like his best friend was living at a homeless shelter and now couldn’t even manage that. That thought upset him greatly, but he wasn't sure if that was true. Bucky was dressed rather nice, clean-shaven and looked like he was eating. He couldn't imagine Bucky having a job, so he must be staying with someone.

“Then who’s the person you’re with?”  
Bucky sighed. He didn't want a long discussion about you just yet. He was doubly sure that his best friend wouldn't approve of him dating a former-HYDRA doctor, never mind just how non-HYDRA you were and are. “Someone nice.”  
“That's good, great.” 

Conversation was stilted, but who could expect otherwise? Their last meeting was one trying to kill the other. But God bless Steve Rogers, he was trying.


	14. Good-Byes Aren't Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after the whole fallout with SHIELD/HYDRA, you and your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky aka The Winter Soldier aka The Other Man Out Of Time, had a lot of reacquainting to do. You had to learn how to deal with someone like Bucky while Bucky not only had to relearn how to be a boyfriend, but also how to deal with regaining his memories.  
> But he had you. And that was all he was in need of right now.
> 
> Post-You And Mr. Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter of this story. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who came along for the ride.

You were slowing your return to allow time for Bucky and Steve to talk. As bad as Bucky’s anxiety about the encounter was described, it was still something that had to happen. You supposed the casual environment of the street was as safe a controlled space as could be warranted. It wasn’t set up like an intervention or anything.

Pausing a few feet behind your boyfriend, you wondered if intruding was the best idea. Maybe they had a lot of catching up to do, or maybe Bucky wanted to leave the District of Columbia ASAP and was waiting for you. 

You hazarded a peek over Bucky’s shoulder to see Steve looking like a wounded animal that was keeping up spirits for the benefit of its kin. Clearly not a happy reunion as you would put it, but Bucky was still there. You tried to communicate mentally to Bucky that you were there without interrupting the conversation, as wooden as it was.

You managed to catch the attention of someone. Just not Bucky.

“Oh hello!” He gave you a smile that made you feel at ease. “Did you need something?”  
“Um...” You stepped over to Bucky’s side. At least he seemed relieved to see you, but his face was reading utter confliction with the circumstances.  
“Don’t worry about interrupting,” he assured you. “Just a regular conversation between friends.”

Steve Rogers did not know you were with Bucky, but merely thought that you needed at least one of them for one reason or another. Maybe help with your car as a set of keys was in one hand, a Styrofoam container for drinks in the other with a bag of food from a local convenience store hanging on your forearm. He stuck out his hand and repeated your name when you said it and shook his (after fumbling to put your keys in your pocket, Steve having the patience of a saint), and how pleasant it was to meet you. Being the gentleman, he started to introduce Bucky, only for his friend to interrupt him.

“She knows who I am.”  
“Oh? Do you know each other very well then?”  
“In a manner of speaking,” you replied. Bucky stood more deliberately at your side. “We live together. Or used to. I mean, I’m moving and he’s coming with me, so…”

Steve's face lit up at that. You looked well-taken care of, too, so he was secure in his thought that Bucky was at least living comfortably. But he didn't want to outright assume you were his girlfriend either. You might have just been a kind soul. You looked like that.

“How did that happen?” Steve asked.  
“I'm his... doctor,” you said, giving a shrug. 

At that, you felt Bucky's arm come around your side and press you lightly to his own. In your mind, not saying you had a personal relationship with Bucky was the right thing to do. Maybe Bucky didn't want to reveal everything in the world to Steve, especially with his romantic life. Wrong.

“And my girlfriend, too.”  
You felt yourself blush. Not only for Bucky's gesture, but also for the look on Steve's face. He seemed completely overjoyed at that.  
“Bucky, that's great! How did you meet?”

Bucky certainly wasn't going to field that one, seeing as how you were introduced to him as the Winter Soldier. You told Steve that you had met Bucky at the Smithsonian exhibit of Captain America. He needed help and you helped him, simple as, and that's as much as you told Steve. 

Of course it wasn’t as simple as that, but Steve didn’t need that undue stress upon his person. He seemed so nice.

“It's wonderful that you two trust each other.”  
“I'm glad he does that,” you said, glancing at Bucky with a smile. Bucky allowed himself a small grin and tried to hide it by looking at the ground.  
Steve nodded and looked at his watch. “I'm just glad that someone's taking care of him. He used to take care of me when we were younger. Make sure he stays safe, okay?”  
You nodded and wrote out your number on a spare piece of paper, getting another free hand when Bucky took your coffees. “Just text me when you're worried, but I promise that I'm not going to have you worrying.”  
Steve accepted it with a nod. “Thank you, miss. I hope that's going to be the case.” He shook your hand firmly and held out one for Bucky. There was a hesitation before Bucky shook it back. “I also hope I'll see you two later?”  
“I’ll tell you when I’m settled… when we’re settled in Maine,” you replied with a smile.  
Steve laughed. “I won't be a pain, but I won't be a stranger.”

With that, Captain America headed away from the two of you. 

And it wasn't long after Steve rounded a corner that Bucky looked at you with a frown. “I’m not ready for that. For visits.”  
“He's polite enough to give me warning. Then I can warn you and you can choose whether or not to be there.” You gave him a small nudge with your forehead. “I wouldn't do that to you. Besides, I think this surprise meeting was enough, even if you handled it very well.”  
“Thanks, honey.” He kissed the side of your head. “I think we should finally head on out. The movers will be there before we are if we don’t.”  
“Whatever you want, Buck.”

There was a small bit of fumbling before the two of you were seated in the Fusion. Shortly thereafter it pulled away from the curb and started its journey to the northeast.

 

Steve gazed at the car fast disappearing down the avenues. Sam Wilson, the ever loyal friend, was at his side. His arms were crossed at his chest and he gave Steve a quizzing look.  
“So what happened?”  
“A lot, but I… he didn’t really want to talk about it.”  
“Well, if I handed my best friend a beating, I’d want to avoid him for a bit… he’ll come around.” Sam nodded and looked at the now empty section of the curb where your car used to be. “Who’s the girl?”  
“His girlfriend.”  
Sam snorted. “No, really. You can’t just make guesses like that. Who is she?”  
“His doctor.”  
“Better.”  
“And his girlfriend.” Steve glanced over at Sam’s blank look before it was replaced with a ‘hey, whatever man, I believe you’ expression. “I wasn't lying. I guess it’s nice. Finding someone.”  
“How the hell did those two meet? No singles meetup for frozen WWII men in D.C. that I’ve seen recently. She, uh... does know, right? His whole past?”  
Steve chuckled at that. “I’m not sure it matters. He seemed happy. Like real smiles. The woman gave me her phone number.” Steve glanced at it and said your name aloud, which was written sloppily next to the number. “She probably actually is a doctor.”  
“Where are they headed?”  
“Maine.”  
“Why?”  
“Don't know.”  
“Want me to find a way to keep tabs on them?”  
Steve shrugged. “Not sure yet.”

Sam gave his friend a pat on the back before heading off. His missing person’s case was closed for now, and he was in the mood for some breakfast in the afternoon.

Steve, however, took a long walk in the park to try and sort some feelings out.

You and Bucky were part joy, part trepidation at the long road ahead, literally and figuratively. You listened to the radio, talked about this and that, slept in rest stops littered across the highway and kept each other entertained. You were anxious about the future while Bucky was anxious at the thought of confronting his past head-on where Steve Rogers was concerned. But the two of you were together. And that had to count for something.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
"This place look good, Maq?"  
"Doubtful. Terran is such an ugly planet, Jor. Full of wastes of life with weak bodies. Doesn't matter which part of it we sample."  
"We can make what we find worthwhile though."  
"True."

Two Krees walked through their ship, across rows and rows of pitiable beings. They reached their arms through their cells, trying to grab attention for something - food, water, painkillers, mercy. Jor gave a short cough and all hands retreated back inward.

These men were infamous to their own race and terrors across scores of galaxies. They were devoted engineers, or at least they used to be. After reading history books of Celestial experimentation of life in other systems, they were inspired. Surely they would be able to harness the potential of life with their own inventions. The more machine someone is, the better. There was more certainty in what to fix if something were to go wrong. They were doing a public service by extending the lives of worthless creatures, no matter how many units were on their heads.

They never strayed in one place for long. Constantly moving to avoid detection, they only hovered if a sample was too good to pass up. 

Walking back to the front of the ship, they set their sights on their new planet.

"Hmmm..." Maq hummed as he picked a section of green on the small planet in front of him. "How about here? See? This part of the world is shaped like a hand. That's interesting."  
"Go to the right," Jor ordered. "Near the coastline. What's that part of the planet called?"  
"The Terrans in that area dubbed it 'Maine', it seems."  
"Take someone from there, then. From Maine."  
"Will do. Time for the... Maine event!"  
"Maq, I will _fucking_ kill you."

The Kree men, having picked their target area, only needed someone to swipe up. Didn't matter who.


End file.
